


Mission: Unexpected

by J11nxed



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Case Fic, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fun, Gavin Reed Redemption, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mid-Redemption Gavin, Prankster Connor, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2019-10-19 01:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 142,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J11nxed/pseuds/J11nxed
Summary: Gavin and Connor are forced to work together… from Gavin’s own home. Bad detectives, intolerant officers and a red ice supplier - the only way they are solving this case is to come together and be a team.Which is easier said than done, with a hyperactive, temper-driven, man-child, who can’t seem to get out of his own way, and a recently deviated, bored senseless android who has been keeping a secret…





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being stuck on desk duty for the last two days hadn’t agreed with Detective Reed, and he’d made sure everyone in the precinct had known it. His usual bad attitude was multiplied tenfold, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen, starting fights with any objectors and destroying a DPD cell phone for reasons Connor wasn’t sure of.
> 
> Even today, he’d marched in with his trademark scowl and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his faux leather jacket, which was an odd choice in the June heat.
> 
> Hank’s fingers clicked in front of Connor's face. “Hey. Leave it. He brought this on himself.”
> 
> No, he hadn’t brought it on himself. It was Connor’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to get these guys outta my head....

Chapter 1

“Don’t give me that look, Reed. You put a goddamn suspect in hospital!”

Fowler’s voice carried through the door before it slammed shut, shuddering the surrounding glass. 

Connor glanced over at Hank who shrugged, unfazed, tiredly turning back to his terminal. 

Shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, Connor picked up the coin from his desk, twirling it in his fingers, staring back to the glass walls of the captain’s office.

It was late in the afternoon and the usually busy precinct was slowly emptying, an odd quiet taking over the floor. It made Connor uneasy, even more so now that he couldn’t hear what was going on in the room.

Being stuck on desk duty for the last two days hadn’t agreed with Detective Reed, and he’d made sure everyone in the precinct had known it. His usual bad attitude was multiplied tenfold, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen, starting fights with any objectors and destroying a DPD cell phone for reasons Connor wasn’t sure of. 

Even today, he’d marched in with his trademark scowl and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his faux leather jacket, which was an odd choice in the June heat.

Hank’s fingers clicked in front of Connor's face. “Hey. Leave it. He brought this on himself.”

No, he hadn’t brought it on himself. It was Connor’s fault.

Two nights before, Connor had received a call that one of his murder suspects had been spotted taking a prostitute into an alley. He and Detective Reed were the last two in the office so they’d gone out together. 

Once they had arrived, the killer was holding the prostitute, a young girl, at gunpoint after she had refused to provide him with her services. Connor had negotiated successfully, the man conceding after a twenty minute back and forth, but as Detective Reed began placing the handcuffs on him, he threw his weight against the detective unexpectedly. He was coming for Connor.

The suspect never got the chance. Detective Reed flung him back and knocked him out cold. 

Which he would have been praised for if Connor was a human. 

Since he was an android, however, heavily punching a half-handcuffed suspect in the face to protect someone who was physically stronger than a human and who couldn’t technically feel pain was deemed ‘overkill’. 

“Bullshit,” muttered Connor, slamming the coin onto his desk. His fingers tingled at the action. 

“Excuse me?” chuckled Hank, his eyebrows raised. “Standing up for the precinct android hater now, are you? Wouldn’t have thought I’d see the day, Con. Seriously, you know better than that.”

“The girl was fourteen, Hank. Thomson had killed before. He was ready to kill her. He would have had no reservations about killing me.” Connor’s face fell when he saw Hank give a soft sigh, shaking his head disbelievingly. “I may be physically stronger than a human, but that does not mean I don’t need protecting, or do you believe it’s okay to punch me, kick me, slam my head against a wall… or even hold a gun to my head, since my parts are so easily replaced?” 

The last part was uncalled for, but he had a point to make.

“Hold on a minute, son,” Hank stood, palms flat against his desk and his brow furrowed, leaning over towards Connor. “You know that’s not what this is. Reed’s been an unstable prick for a while, long before you stepped foot inside this place, so don’t think you know him.” 

Hank let his body fall heavily back in his seat, picking up his blue stress ball and squeezing it absently. “Besides, the prick’s held a gun to you way more times than I have,” he huffed.

Connor shook his head, a few prompts entering his vision as his processors struggled to choose between placating Hank, sticking to his point or, more mischievously, creating another elaborate boobytrap on Hank’s desk that would cause him to get his fingers caught in the side drawer. 

Tempting, if a little childish. The last prank hadn’t improved the lieutenant’s mood, although it had vastly improved Connor’s own.

He dismissed all the actions with a blink and let his eyes wander back to the glass wall, where he could see the detective sitting down, arms folded, shaking his head. 

This whole situation confused and bothered Connor. From Detective Reed’s reaction on the scene to the reaction of other officers, even the lieutenant’s reaction. 

He did not understand how the person who seemingly hated him most had defended him, yet others who claimed to see him as a person would have so easily let him be hit. 

The arguments bounced around in Connor’s mind. Maybe Hank was right. Maybe Reed simply saw an opening to let some aggression out.

No, Connor did not believe that. The detective hadn’t reacted because he wanted to be violent. If he had, there were plenty of opportunities to do so prior to that moment.

He understood where Hank was coming from. Androids were capable of taking a hit far better than humans. The suspect was unarmed, it was unlikely he could have done any real harm. 

Still, Connor had been distracted and the man had taken him by surprise. With his most recent upgrades still untested, he had no idea how a strike would have felt. His initial reaction had been… fear. 

No matter what terrible things Detective Reed had done in the past, he shouldn't be punished for how he acted that night. He had treated Connor like a living being, and it was on _instinct_.

Connor wasn’t a fool. He knew very well that in most scenarios, even the officers who were nice to his face would have simply let him get hit, like Hank had said, before taking the guy down. 

Although he did doubt that the lieutenant would have let him get hurt, even if he was unaware of Connor’s most recent visit to Cyberlife’s upgrade centre. 

As much as he would have known it was the right decision, Connor had no doubt that he would have behaved in exactly the same way as Reed. It was likely the reason the lieutenant was a bit out of sorts with Detective Reed’s behaviour.

The detective hadn’t hesitated before laying the guy out, and it filled Connor with an appreciation he’d never expected to feel towards the man who had continuously called him slurs instead of his name, even if those slurs were beginning to lack the malice they had held all those months before.

“Hmpf,” Hank grumbled quietly, blue eyes flickering towards him. “LED’s doing a dance, Connor. Something to share with the class? What’s going on in there?” He jutted his head towards the glass.

Connor forced his face still, although he wanted to roll his eyes. He didn’t know where he’d picked up that strange habit. “I’m simply processing, Lieutenant. I can’t actually hear through walls.” It wasn’t exactly true, his hearing was far better than any human’s, but even with the dwindling officers, there was still far too much noise to discern what was happening behind the glass. “Detective Reed doesn’t look happy.”

Hank laughed. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen that kid _happy_.” He tossed the stress ball over their desks and Connor caught it in the air. “He’s a fuckin’ glutton for punishment. Don’t get the wrong idea. He didn’t hit that guy for you. He hit the guy because he’s an aggressive asshole and two strikes away from getting fired. It’d be a quieter place without him.”

“Quieter, maybe,” reasoned Connor, tossing the ball in his hands before throwing it back to the lieutenant. “But he must have….” 

_//Negative response likely, try another approach_

“You liked him once, right?" he tried again. "Despite how he speaks, his body language suggests he respects you.”

Hank put the ball down, looking away and shaking his head. “Maybe back before…” Before. “But he’s always had an arrogant streak, wasn’t a real problem until-”

The door of Fowler’s office flew open and Detective Reed stormed down the stairs, his face dark. He didn’t look at anyone, instead heading straight to the breakroom. 

“Connor, don’t…”

But Connor was already on his feet, following after him. 

There was a seventy-two percent chance this encounter would end poorly, but it was better that he faced it now. If he waited, the chance of a negative encounter would be unavoidable.

If Detective Reed needed to release his aggression, Connor accepted he was the right person to receive it.

He should have been paying better attention to the danger, after all. He was supposed to be quicker, smarter, more aware. He failed.

Why should Detective Reed be punished for not allowing a certifiable psychopath to lay a hand on an android?

Wasn’t the point of the revolution to promote that kind of behaviour?

He wished he could find the words to make Hank understand that, despite his strength and apparent lack of pain receptors, having someone stand up for him, especially someone he would never have expected, felt… good.

Taking a breath he didn’t need but he found relaxed him anyway, Connor entered the breakroom. 

Detective Reed was hunched over the coffee machine. Not an unusual sight. 

Neither were the dark circles under his eyes, the scruff on his face, his clean but dishevelled hair. He poured himself some of the thick dark liquid and tore three sachets of sugar open at once. Connor couldn’t help a grimace as he let the granules decant into the cup. 

“Detective.”

“Fuck!” the detective started, the cup of coffee spilling slightly in his startled hands and over his sleeve. “For fuck sake, dipshit, do I need to get you a goddamn bell?”

Connor frowned. “No… I was making you aware of my presence. You are usually much more aware of your surroundings.”

Detective Reed rolled his eyes, putting down his cup and grabbing a napkin to wipe his hands. “Well, I’m fucking sorry. Didn’t think a plastic was going to come sneaking up on me in my own place of fucking business. Besides, you can fuckin’ talk… this entire mess is your fault.”

The breakroom was empty, the hustling of the few bodies outside and the television dissolving any tension in the detective’s body. Connor waited until the man’s heartrate was back to acceptable before stepping forward. “What did the captain want?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Reed sighed exasperatedly, shrugging off his jacket. He wandered over to a table in the corner of the room. 

Connor went to the coffee machine, carefully picking up the abandoned coffee, quickly refilling it to the correct level and bringing it over to where the detective was wiping his jacket sleeve with the napkin. 

The detective’s eyes flicked up briefly. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Placing the cup near where the jacket rested on the high table, Connor clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes raking over the detective.

Strangely, it was the first time Connor had seen him without his usual hoodies, jumpers or even his faux leather jacket. Standing in just a white t-shirt, dark jeans and soft canvas shoes, he was dressed for summer.

The strong arms he usually kept hidden were on display, his t-shirt clinging to his wide chest and tapered waist. Several fading scars were almost completely covered up by an intricate tattoo, shaped in pretty vines, decorating the top of his right arm and disappearing into his t-shirt. Connor registered both the scars and tattoo to his database. 

As the detective moved the napkin over the faux leather, his biceps moved with him. It was rather mesmerising.

Although he gave off the impression of being lazy, the detective quite clearly kept himself in great shape. Perhaps the excessive sugar and caffeine along with the occasional cigarette could be avoided, but it didn’t appear to be having a negative effect on his impressive physique. 

“Oi, dipshit. You know where my eyes are, right?”

Connor's attention returned to the detective’s face, quickly casting aside the thoughts of humans and their vices. 

“Of course, I do.”

Snorting, the detective turned back to his jacket. “Mind telling me what the fuck you’re bothering me for?”

Connor flicked through his options and chose the honest response. “I want you to know that, although others seem to disagree with your actions, I am very grateful for what you did.” 

The detective stopped wiping his sleeve, scowling. 

“Don’t,” he whispered, shaking his head. “You stupid fucking… just don’t.” 

He swiped his jacket and coffee from the table, letting the napkin fall to the floor. 

“Don’t what?” Connor asked, suddenly confused. This wasn’t one of the expected reactions. His eyes followed the detective as he strode away from the table towards his desk. 

Gavin stopped walking, turning his body slightly so Connor could see his face. “Just don’t get used to it, barbie.”

*

_Fucking stupid android and his stupid fucking gratefulness, stupid fucking…_

“Am I interrupting something?” a chirpy voice said from above him.

Gavin continued rubbing his temples, elbows on the desk, eyes closed. “Obviously. Fuck off.”

“Make me,” Chen said challengingly. 

He glanced upwards to see her smirking, her tongue between her teeth. “Bitch.”

“Whore,” she retorted lightly.

Gavin snorted. “If anyone’s a whore here, it’s you.”

Tina pulled herself up to sit on Gavin’s desk. “I’m a married woman of two years, and that’s still one more than you’ve had in that time.”

“Still not desperate enough to start chasing pussy, bitch. Stop trying,” he grumbled, leaning back in his chair, grabbing his coffee from his desk.

“Like I’d willingly subject my gender to your grotty hands, you scoundrel,” she teased. “But what the fuck is your problem, seriously? You’ve been giving off vibes like no-one’s business. Bad juju, Chris is calling it. The android still not playing any more of these ‘pranks’?”

“The pranks are real, Chen. Not my fault you’re not as observant as me.” He gave her a smug smile.

“Whatever, douche. Fowler giving you shit for the perp?”

Gavin sighed. Shit for the perp. That was putting it lightly. He still didn’t know why he had done what he did. One second, he had the guy almost in cuffs, next second the guy had sprung loose like a fucking jack-in-the-box, fist aiming for the back of Connor’s head. 

Like fuck he was going to let a guy be sucker-punched like that, android or not… but that was the fucking point, right? The android could have taken it. 

Still, the way Fowler had spoken to him.

_I’d say you were in deep shit, Reed, but you did a good fucking job. Tell anyone I said so and I’ll fucking deny it. A week’s desk duty, a slap on the wrist. Then I’m partnering you with Connor. Don’t look at me like that, I’ll explain this when I’m good and goddamn ready. Three months, maybe less. If you can behave like a decent fucking human being around the android for a night, let’s see if a few months can set you fucking straight._

Gavin snorted at the memory. Better people than him had tried to set him straight.

“What the fuck happened?” Chen asked, real concern sweeping her face.

“Got a tellin’ off, that’s all. Week’s desk duty.”

Tina whistled through her teeth. “Not bad. I’ve seen people get worse for less. Well, don’t get too bored. Might want to come back to the beat.”

“Would I fuck!” laughed Gavin, shoving her off his desk. “Go away, minion. Some of us have got better work to do.”

“I’ll get back to handing the criminals to you then.” She flipped him off before heading to the breakroom, starting to wipe her hands on her uniform whispering “bad juju” over and over again. 

Gavin rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his coffee. He pulled another file over on his terminal and glanced upwards to the android across the room. He didn’t look the same as he had half a year ago. 

He’d lost the creepy jacket that screamed “property of”, and instead wore a fitted white shirt, tucked into black suit trousers that sat perfectly on his hips. Black braces clung to his frame and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. At that moment, his tie was slightly loose and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. 

Give the android a fedora and a trench coat, he could easily pass for a young private investigator from a nineteen fifties noir film. 

It was a good look on him.

Connor was staring intently at his screen, hand white and pressed against it, downloading whatever the fuck he was working on. In a week’s time, the android would be working with him. 

Fuck.

Why did he have to punch that fucking psycho? 

He kept asking himself but he knew why. There was an ‘us versus them’ mentality in every profession and fuck if the DPD wasn’t filled to the brim with it, going up against scum each and every day. 

The android had been ‘them’ for so long, Gavin didn’t even notice when he became part of ‘us’.

But Connor had gotten into plenty of scrapes and protected enough of their own for Gavin to see his value. Appreciate him being there. 

He wasn’t that much of a dick he could overlook the way the android had held the girl in the alley.

A fourteen-year-old prostitute. It still filled Gavin with rage. How could someone let a kid get hooked on red so badly that she had to sell herself for another hit? 

These cases weren’t a rarity either, especially recently. The officers were becoming so desensitised that most of them merely played the part of concerned while ushering the victim off to the next, equally desensitised, person. 

Not Connor. He had every opportunity to stay focused on his mission - capturing the killer.

Instead the android had seen a terrified kid and reacted, talking down the killer, and pulling the girl from his clutches and into his own arms.

Taking care of the her, making her the priority... letting Gavin make the arrest and complete the mission in his place... 

It tugged at something inside Gavin.

Grudgingly, he tore his eyes away from the android and he started going through paperwork.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤ j.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s a reason I need you both working together. A special assignment has come up and I need two somewhat competent detectives on it.”
> 
> “What the fuck is that supposed to mean-”
> 
> “You know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean,” Fowler rounded on the detective. “While I’m impressed you managed to see past your robophobia for two goddamn minutes and protect a fellow detective, you put a perp in the hospital.” 
> 
> His eyes switched to Connor. “ _You_ managed to calm down an undoubtedly terrified kid, but you took your eye off the ball and put yourself, Reed and the kid in danger. You both fucked up. As far as I’m concerned, you owe me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor: I don't know where I picked up the habit of rolling my eyes.  
> Gavin: *rolls his eyes*

Chapter 2

Connor sat quietly while the arguing continued, pressing his blunt thumbnail into different parts of his forefinger, analysing the sensations. 

“This is a joke, right?” Hank paced the room, not dissimilar to a lion trapped in a cage. “You’re gonna stick Connor with that piece of trash?” He jutted a finger to the man standing sullenly in the corner. 

To give the detective his due, he barely flinched at the insult. _Barely._ His arms were folded, leaning against a bookcase at the back of the room, biting his lip hard. 

“Lieutenant,” Connor warned quietly, trying to calm the situation. 

“No, Connor!” Hank glared at the captain, while turning his finger to him. Connor pressed his thumbnail harder. “What the fuck is this? A test of Connor’s fucking resolve? Or do you want to see how fast this prick can throw him in front of a fucking bullet?”

“Lieutenant,” repeated Connor a bit louder, seeing Detective Reed tighten his fists against his elbows, stress levels rising.

“Is that what this is?” Hank asked incredulously, hands slamming down on the captain’s desk. “You’re gonna throw him to the fucking wolves and see if he survives?”

“Lieutenant!” Connor stood up. “Just… stop talking.” At this point, the vein in the captain’s head was close to bursting. 

Had the detective and Connor not been in the room, Connor knew that both men would be at each other’s throats but the captain seemed to be maintaining enough professionalism to keep his lips clamped shut while Hank unloaded his rage. 

Rage fully unloaded, Hank took a few more pacing steps before finally growling. “This is a fucking mistake.” He rounded on Reed, whose eyes shot up. “You get him fucking killed, I’ll kill you, prick.”

“That’s enough, Hank. Whether you like it or not, the 27th precinct needs someone with experience to train rookies and Connor will need a partner while you’re away. It’s not forever.” Fowler rubbed his eyes with one hand, pointing his thumb to the door with the other. “Now go. I’ll deal with you later. Fucking worse temper than Reed…”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m fucking thrilled either-”

“Reed, I warned you before!” The captain cut him off. “Hank, out.”

The lieutenant glared at the detective for a second longer, Detective Reed holding his gaze steadily, before Hank finally headed to the door, slamming it on the way out. 

It was a more civil ending than their usual exchanges, but with Hank’s exit, a flurry of actions flooded Connor’s vision. 

Setting Hank so high on his priority list might be a bit of a nuisance, given how much the man was prone to self-destruction, but he wouldn’t see him lower.

Caring about him was what brought him to deviancy in the first place. He owed his humanity to the man. 

Watching him leave with such high stress levels, racing heart and conditions that had a high chance of alcohol intake set Connor on edge.

Fowler grimaced at the door. “No better than children… I should have retired years ago… Reed, stop hovering back there like a fucking dementor and sit down. You too, Connor.”

They both did as they were told, Reed resting back in the chair with his usual terrible posture. It was a wonder the man could stand up straight.

“There’s a reason I need you both working together. A special assignment has come up and I need two somewhat competent detectives on it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean-”

“You know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean,” Fowler rounded on the detective. “While I’m impressed you managed to see past your robophobia for two goddamn minutes and protect a fellow detective, you put a perp in the hospital.” 

His eyes switched to Connor. “ _You_ managed to calm down an undoubtedly terrified kid, but you took your eye off the ball and put yourself, Reed and the kid in danger. You both fucked up. As far as I’m concerned, you owe me.”

Detective Reed folded his arms across his chest, pursing his lips like a scowling toddler, but stayed quiet.

Connor looked between the two with a slight frown. “What is the assignment?”

The captain rubbed his hands together with a tired sigh.

“The same kid you picked up claims there’s a guy from a suburban neighbourhood, apparently makes red ice from his own home. Older guy, respectable, wouldn’t look at him twice. She gave us the location but didn’t know much else. Hasn’t met him in person so couldn’t give us much of a description, only what she’d heard from the dealers and other workers on the street.” 

Detective Reed frowned. “And?”

“And, red ice has been hitting the streets by the fuckton and the bodies are piling up, Reed.”

“I think what Detective Reed means is,” Connor said carefully, feeling just as confused, “what do you need from us exactly? This isn’t our area of expertise.”

“Maybe not, but there are special circumstances.” He tapped his keyboard and then turned his screen to face them. “Look familiar?”

A map of a residential area, a twenty-four-minute drive from the precinct. 

“Wait, wait, wait…” Detective Reed sat forward, hands gripping his knees. “That’s my fucking neighbourhood!”

“Exactly.”

That was a surprise. Connor wouldn’t have expected the detective to live someplace so… quiet. 

Bungalows and two-story houses, family homes, front and back gardens. It wasn’t a particularly affluent area, but it certainly wasn’t deprived like some of the other areas of Detroit were, hard hit by unemployment and the sudden decrease in population caused by the aftereffects of the revolution.

The detective gritted his teeth and tightened his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe this. I moved out there to avoid this shit – you’re telling me that I got away from the junkies only to move next door to a fucking supplier?”

Fowler shrugged. “It could be. Vice has said the kid’s description, vague as it is, fits what some of their informants have told them. They’ve had their eyes on residential areas for a while now. Yours is top of their list. They were going to send undercover units to the most likely areas, but since you already live there…” He focused on Reed, as if daring him to complain.

He never knew when to shut up.

“No way,” He waved his hand in the air. “This is bullshit. I haven’t worked with vice in almost three years for a fucking reason! Did they volunteer me personally? What, you want me to spy on my fucking neighbours like big fucking brother?!”

“If that’s what it takes, Reed, then yes!” shouted Captain Fowler. “This strain of red ice is being marketed to teenagers and kids in their twenties. A new demographic will bring a new crimewave. We’re already seeing an increase in violent crime, robbery and prostitution. 

“Goddamn it, this lead came from an addicted teenager selling herself on the street! The higher ups want this dealt with and so do I.”

Fowler lowered his tone, leaning back in his chair. “We’ve spoken about this, Reed. Last fucking chance.”

_Last chance for what?_

Connor stared at the detective, but he gave nothing away, simply glowering and giving a reluctant nod.

“Good. And Connor?”

Connor’s attention snapped back to the captain.

“You’ve done good work here,” he nodded, turning his screen back towards him, “but it hasn’t gone unnoticed that you were given a fast pass to your title after the revolution. You took your exams, passed with flying colours, all expected, but being a detective is about more than facts, figures and chasing down criminals. It’s also about subtlety, working well with others in long term, adverse situations. If you come out of this having done a good job, to my standards, maybe the officers won’t feel so….” The captain trailed off with a puff of air.

So…? 

It didn’t surprise Connor. It was like he’d thought before. 

Some officers would have let him be hit by Thomson because it made the most logical sense. 

Others would have simply enjoyed watching the clever android, who didn’t have to do the grunt work they were doing, being taken down by a psychotic human.

He could name the officers, the lab technicians, the receptionists, the civilians. They were perfectly captured in his memory.

He could hear their words recited back to him as if they were in the room.

See the sneering looks on their faces.

Feel them knock into him when no one else was looking. 

Connor’s skin itched. He had a sudden urge to deactivate it. Was this one of the side effects of the upgrade? He made a mental note to check while he took a deep breath, trying to cool his systems.

He thought about the coin sitting on his desk.

*

Gavin scowled.

So…? 

What, some rookie was talking shit about the android because he was better than them at what he was literally built to do? 

Yeah, the guy pissed Gavin off (so much so that it felt like he was doing it intentionally at this point, and he probably was) but it wasn’t like before. 

Did the shitty officers actually think they could hold a fucking candle to the android? Running around with their dicks in their hands wondering what the fuck was going on… Gavin had seen some of their so-called professionalism in action and none of them could have done what Connor did that night.

How Connor had talked down an actual psychotic murderer who was holding a gun to a kid’s head.

How he had knelt carefully in front of the girl, her face painted with makeup, barely dressed, too skinny, shaking with her addiction. A girl most would have considered trash. How he took her hands in his, spoke softly but not patronisingly, taking the time to listen to her cry and tell her story. Standing up to hold the girl in his arms. 

There was no reason for it. It didn’t pertain to his mission. He saw a sad kid and wanted to make her feel safe. 

While others would have written her off as someone who’d gotten herself into this mess, Connor had treated her like a human. 

The irony wasn’t lost on Gavin.

It was so unlike the machine he’d met in the interrogation room all those months ago, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. 

And now, the android had his head bowed, staring hard at his hands, his LED yellow and spinning wildly. 

So…

“Fucking rookies,” Gavin growled, despite himself. 

He should probably stay quiet (he should always probably stay quiet), but he owed the android one. 

“Those asswipes can’t accept they might not be as badass as they think they are. Put any one of them in the situation we were in and you’d have had one dead kid and a psychopath looking for the next one to rape and kill. Right?”

Gavin kicked a foot into Connor’s leg to knock him out of whatever thoughts were making his light go weird.

The android’s eyes flashed up at him, LED spinning a quick blue before settling back to a much calmer yellow. Mission accomplished. Sort of.

Fowler dragged a large hand down his face, choosing to ignore Gavin. “When you have teens barely entering puberty selling themselves for red ice, it’s a fucking game-changer. I want results, the goddamn city needs results.” 

He leant back in his chair. “I’m trusting you both to come through here. Catching a killer was great, but kids are still dying, OD-ing on this shit. You’ll be saving a lot more lives if you catch the sadistic fucker creating it.”

Gavin heaved a loud sigh. This was still bullshit, but the captain had a point. If this creep was hiding somewhere near where Gavin lived, he was going to be found, there was no doubt about that. “Right, so what do you need from us? Canvass the area? Talk to the neighbours?”

Tilting his head back, the captain tapped his fingers on his desk. Gavin did not like the sound of that.

It was plotting, scheming, and usually ended up with Gavin in a situation he’d rather not be in.

“Not quite, but close. We don’t want to draw attention. You already live there so your job for the time being is to,” Fowler pursed his lips and waved his hand, “just live there. Technically, you’ll be on medical leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“For the gunshot wound to the shoulder you’ll suffer tomorrow in the line of duty.”

“You want to shoot me-” Gavin started stupidly.

“Don’t tempt me, Reed,” snapped Fowler. “I would love nothing more than an excuse to shoot you.”

A noise came from Connor and Gavin’s eyes shot to him. A hand was in front of his mouth, but Gavin was sure the little shit was laughing.

“Some detectives from Vice will be in touch to set up a location. You will go there-”

“-I don’t fucking think so-” Not Vice. Fuck. He already knew who was going to show up there.

“-You _will_ go there,” Fowler stressed carefully, staring him down, “and they will set you up with what you’ll need to be convincing. Don’t tell anyone here what you’re doing.”

Connor piped up then. “Captain, exactly what is my role in this?”

Fowler smiled softly. If that wasn’t a dead giveaway that the world was ending, Gavin didn’t know what was. “We all know Reed hasn’t taken a voluntary day off in years. The last time he was injured, he came back in only two days later and ended up causing more trouble than he’s worth.”

Hmph. That wasn’t fair. The last time he was injured, he’d been knocked unconscious by the android sitting a foot away. Connor seemed to remember this too, looking down as his LED flashed red for a second. Was that guilt? It couldn’t be. Did he forget the gun pointing at his head? 

“You’re taking some vacation days to investigate this. Or to babysit his ass. You never know, the one who shot him might come back to finish the job so he’ll need protection,” Fowler fabricated, ominous as fuck. “I can sell that to everyone here.”

The horrified expression on Connor’s face would have been hilarious if Gavin hadn’t suddenly realised exactly what that meant.

Shit, no. The world was actually ending.

“You want Connor to live with me….” That couldn’t be right. Fowler couldn’t do that to him. Fowler couldn’t possibly do that to _Connor._

“This is a case. You will both be working from Reed’s residence, spending time in the neighbourhood, _legitimately_ talking to neighbours. Get to know them. Get a feel for them. Find out which one of them is turning good kids into addicts. This is a twenty-four-seven gig, Detective Reed.”

That actually sounded reasonable. Fuck.

*

Hank was still furious. 

If someone else were behaving like this, Connor knew what Hank would call it. _A tantrum._

He’d barely said two words to Connor since he’d returned back to his desk, instead occasionally cursing then grumpily mumbling something about a case, then he abruptly shoved away his chair saying something about needing a coffee.

Connor watched the man shuffle off to the breakroom, and immediately began running through scenarios that would improve his mood. He could adjust his chair settings to provide the optimal comfort, or alter the background of his terminal to show Sumo’s puppy pictures, or add the court’s new receptionist’s cell number to his contact list or- 

“Heard a good man is getting shit for having to save your plastic ass,” came the gruff voice. He hadn’t heard the woman sneak up. He really needed to lower Hank on his list of priorities. 

He wouldn’t though.

Officer Kelly was suddenly in front of him. ‘Hard as nails’ was how Hank had described her. Taller than most, her thin blond hair pulled back into a tight bun, her uniform pristine. Connor hadn't had more than a few interactions with the officer, and none of them pleasant. 

She leant on Connor’s desk, flicking a finger on the petal of one of his desk plants. “This is what happens when you dolls are here for too long. We start mistaking you for actual people.”

“I am an actual person.” Connor reached out and shifted the plant away from her bony fingers. “Or did you miss the news?”

“Do you really think anybody actually believes that you are sentient?” she scoffed, making sure to keep her voice low. 

Her beady eyes stared at him as if he were the living embodiment of everything she despised. He supposed he was. 

“Everybody knows you are nothing but wires and clever programming. In a few years, people will come to their senses and you will all be at the bottom of a scrapheap. No one will think twice about you.”

Connor pressed his lips together but said nothing. He’d heard this all before, his memory buzzed with it. He wished he could grow bored of the hatred, but each interaction was burned into his memory. At least he had the option to bury the worst ones – those he would rather never think about again. 

“Reed should have let that guy destroy you,” she sneered in her usual disparaging tone, her lips curling. “I’d have made a few dollars. Still, I have six more months. You’ll get into another… _difficult_ situation in that time. Don’t expect anyone else to come running to your rescue. I’m sure Reed has learned his lesson from this.”

She cupped her hand around one of the plant pots and slowly pushed it off Connor’s desk. It smashed heavily on the tiled floor. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, faking her concern for whoever had heard the breakage. It didn’t matter. She only did this when there were as few people around as possible.

Connor kept his composure. “If you’re quite done, Officer Kelly, I have work to do.”

She shrugged her shoulders, looking down her nose at him. “Whatever, you cheap piece of plastic. Try and break sooner rather than later. I could use the cash.”

He flinched, despite himself. The woman was horrible, but her comments weren’t original. 

His mind swam with preconstructed scenarios of how to make her disappear completely, with no trace… but if he set that kind of precedent with her, logic would have him doing it with the others too. The precinct would be an awfully empty place by the time he was done…

No, he had better things to do than worry about some terrible excuse for an officer. 

Pushing himself from his chair, he knelt down in front of his desk, gathering the remains of the plant and pot. It could be saved. He dropped the plant and some soil onto his desk and reached over into Hank’s area, stealing one of his empty coffee cups. Packing in the soil, he replanted the flower.

Sweeping the rest of the soil and broken pot into the trashcan, he archived the incident and returned to his terminal, determined to finalise all the cases he could before his forced vacation.

*

“We’re going to a bar.” Tina hopped up onto her perch on Gavin’s desk.

“Who’s we?” grumbled Gavin, falling back into his chair after getting his fifth coffee of the day. He'd managed to skillfully avoid Hank in the breakroom by not letting Tina leave. He wasn't ready for that confrontation yet and he was determined to finish off as many reports as he could before the inevitable fake gunshot wound would put him out of commission.

“You. Me. Chris.” She flicked through some papers on his desk idly. “Your shift finished an hour ago. My shift finished a minute ago, Chris gets off in twenty minutes. It’s still daylight and Susan doesn’t finish for a few hours.”

“So, the wife’s given you a free pass to get wasted?”

Switching off his terminal, Tina corrected him. “To blow off steam.”

Gavin turned it back on. “Fine. Twenty minutes.” 

He gave a heavy sigh, glancing up at Connor. He was completely engrossed in his screen, fingers, a little _muddy_ for some reason, dancing across the keyboard, obviously trying to finish all his paperwork too. 

It might make things a little less awkward if they hung out before spending so much time together. Fuck, Tina could break the ice in the arctic. Maybe she could… facilitate?

Trying to keep his face expressionless, he quickly mumbled, “Ask the android too.”

Tina’s eyes flashed with excitement. “You serious? I’d fucking love to, but I didn’t think he’d have much fun with you behaving like… well, like you usually do.”

_Don’t roll your eyes._

“We both had front row seats for the Fury of Fowler,” he reasoned, shrugging it off like this wasn’t weird as shit. “He could use a break as much as us.” 

Tina gave him a look that screamed ‘are you sure you can behave like an actual human being?’.

“I swear, I’ll be good,” he promised. Fuck, even _he_ didn’t trust himself, but he would at least _try_.

“Well, there's a bar not too far from here that’s started serving drinks for androids. One of those fun places, good crowd, happy tunes. You’ll hate it,” she winked with a grin.

Gavin groaned, running an anxious hand through his hair.

“Hey Connor, Hank!” Tina called across the floor. The android blinked a few times before he looked up, smiling at her. The woman really was loved by everyone. “We’re heading out to a bar that’s just started serving android beers. Twenty minutes. You two in?”

“No way you’re getting me in one of your god-awful haunts.” Hank chuckled. That wasn’t a surprise. As far as Gavin could tell, it had been a while since the guy had stepped foot in a bar. 

Connor’s eyes darted to Gavin, who held his gaze, trying his fucking best to _stay_ expressionless. There was no way it was working.

“I am curious,” answered Connor, thoughtfully. Gavin swallowed. “Twenty minutes.”

_Here goes nothing._

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very much stream of thought, because I think about these two far too much...
> 
> ❤ j.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why would you let someone talk to you like that?” The detective ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. “You’re supposed to be your own person now, right? But you’re still acting like you’re a fucking…” He shook his head, pressing his lips together.
> 
> “Do tell me what I’m acting like, _detective_ ,” said Connor, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Please, I can’t wait to hear this.”
> 
> “Like a fucking machine,” he pointed a finger at him before taking a swig of his drink.
> 
> Connor’s processors flickered in anger, LED flashing red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a creep in the bar!
> 
> Based on a conversation I had with a horrible drunk stranger irl, a few of the insults swapped out with more story-appropriate ones. Didn’t think people actually spoke like that, but experience is an eye-opener!
> 
> *A warning for a homophobic slur and general unpleasantness*

Chapter 3

The bar was big and lively. Large, frosted windows let in the afternoon sun. Colourful lamps lit the bar area and the excited chatter of humans and androids alike filled the space, some just getting started, others finishing up.

It had a far more diverse mix of people than the bars Hank used to frequent. Those were smaller, darker and quieter. 

This place had a better… energy. 

Connor wasn’t sure what to expect. The unpredictability was exciting.

“I’ll get the first round, boys. Beers okay?” called Tina, already bouncing over to the long bar. The bartender gave her his attention immediately. “Two beers, a low alcohol beer and a… Blue, please.”

Chris, Reed and Connor found a long table in the corner. The detective and Connor took the stool seats (easier to stay far apart), leaving the sofa style seat for Chris and Tina. She returned quickly, sliding the low alcohol beer over to Chris and a colourfully labelled one over to Connor. 

New companies creating android equivalents to human beverages had been popping up all over Detroit in the last few months. Several had succeeded but Connor had never thought to try anything like it before. 

“So how does this even work in androids? Will this ‘Blue’ get you drunk?” asked the detective curiously. He seemed to be trying to keep his tone pleasant, which was a nice change. After shrugging off his jacket, Reed immediately began picking at the label of his beer. 

The question caught the officers’ attention too.

Connor downloaded an information packet. “The alcoholic beverages created by this company contain a substance that is absorbed into the system and coats the vulnerable wiring in an android’s mind with a thin layer of solution that prevents the processors from functioning optimally, mimicking the effects of alcohol intake in humans,” he explained. “The more consumed, the thicker the solution becomes and the more difficult it is to function.”

“And if you consume too much?” queried Tina, a little concerned. 

“I suppose if I keep consuming, the solution becomes so thick that regular processes will cease functioning.”

“Meaning…”

Connor thought for a second about the correct human translation. “I would ‘pass out’.”

Reed snickered. “I would love to see that,” he said quietly. Tina shot him a look and his face straightened. Interesting.

“We should see who can last the longest some time,” said Connor, eyeing the bottle suspiciously.

“Don’t get cocky, asshole," he snorted. "You’re not even a year old yet. Is this even legal?”

Connor lifted the beer. It was cold in his hand and he savoured the feel of the droplets of condensation touching his synthetic skin.

“Don’t worry, Connor,” said Tina, sensing his hesitation. “We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And by that,” Chris chimed in, “she means I’ll be keeping an eye on all three of you. I’m on baby duty tomorrow.” He waved his low percentage beverage at them. “Happy to babysit some adults today.”

“Well,” said Reed, holding up his own beer. “Drink up.”

Connor mirrored his actions and the detective clinked the neck of his bottle on Connor’s. 

They all watched in fascination as he brought the drink to his lips and tasted.

It was flat, thick and bright blue. Although he could feel the cool glass against his lips and the cold liquid in his mouth, as soon as it went past his throat, the chill disappeared. His analytics kicked in. It was safe. 

Feeling the eyes on him, he took a few large gulps to satisfy them. 

“Cherry popped!” cheered Tina. “Let’s drink up. I want to go home merry tonight.”

*

This… wasn’t terrible. The realisation surprised Connor.

Even Gavin seemed to be enjoying himself. Tina was keeping the conversation going with her usual brute giddiness. Chris had even taken out his phone to show them his impressively large collection of baby videos, which made Tina extremely happy. The two of them were huddled in the corner, cooing over the images, while Gavin managed to ‘escape’ to the restroom.

They had finished their second round and Connor offered to get the third. The bar was getting busy, but he caught the bartender’s attention, twirling his finger to signal ‘same again’. 

The synthetic alcohol was already working its way through his system. He felt a strange quiet in his mind, showing a broader range of conversational prompts with a few milliseconds delay. Although he couldn’t imagine doing this all the time, the initial effect was rather freeing.

“You here with someone?” 

Connor looked around. A tall and thin man, older and dressed in a grey suit, stood only a foot away. A straggler from a work function that had left thirty minutes before, Connor deduced. The stranger’s eyes were half-lidded, clearly inebriated. 

“Yes,” Connor answered, spotting the detective walking past them, coming from the restrooms. He nodded his head towards him.

“Oh,” the man scoffed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I guess androids can be fags too. Free to do _whoever_ you like now, right?” He laughed at an apparent joke, swaying on his feet.

Connor blinked, glancing sideways at the man, taking in his profile. 

_//Eric Stevens, 65 years of age, no criminal record_

The most probable explanation for his behaviour was his blood alcohol level. He didn’t need to analyse him to know his was high.

His eyes moved up and down Connor’s body and he licked his lips. “That guy fucking you good?”

Maybe his sensors had dulled more than he had thought. Dilated pupils and an increased heart rate suggested the drunk man was interested in Connor in a sexual manner, which was strange considering his vulgar words. Humans made very little sense sometimes.

“You’re his p _-hic-_ pretty little fuck toy, aren’t you?” 

“What the fuck did you just say?”

 _Shit._ Conner cringed. How long had the detective been standing there?

Clearly he hadn’t returned to the table. Instead, he was standing next to Connor in feigned relaxation. His hair messy (a good look on him), like he’d ran his fingers through it several times, his t-shirt clinging to his slim yet muscular frame, hands in his pockets as if trying to physically hold himself back. 

Although it was unlikely that he would be bothered by the anti-android slurs, Connor had a feeling the homophobic ones might be a trigger for him. 

He turned to give his full attention to the detective, blocking the drunk man from his view.

“It’s not worth the trouble,” said Connor, with a quiet smile.

“How about I wait for the drinks and you go back to the table?” he said, trying to get a look at the taller man behind him. 

Connor stretched out a hand, flattening it on Gavin’s chest. “No, Gavin.” 

His muscles tensed under soft material, his body heat making Connor’s palm tingle. Fiery grey eyes locked on his. 

Then, as quickly as it had come, the tension was gone. He relaxed, settled, letting out a surrendering breath. “Fine.” 

That was interesting. 

_//Detective Reed appears to be calmed by physical contact_

The bartender returned and Connor dropped his hand, swiftly lifting the drinks and turning to leave, making sure the detective was a few steps in front of him. 

As soon as the drinks were on the table, Gavin took over, quickly sliding two towards the officers still cooing in the corner. He rounded on Connor. 

“What the actual fuck, you plastic fucking prick?!” he growled, furiously. He pulled his chair right over to Connor, away from the others, invading his space. 

Connor felt disappointment course through him, rolling the bottle in his hands.

The slurs again. Surprise, surprise. 

“What’s wrong now, detective?” he asked, his interest suddenly waning. He’d been called enough names today. His patience was wearing thin.

“ Fuck, Co…-dipshit,” he quickly corrected, and Connor rolled his eyes. “You tear suspects to shreds in every interrogation, using your freaky negotiation skills. You can literally knock a guy unconscious in a heartbeat.”

“What’s your point…”

“Why would you let someone talk to you like that?” The detective ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. “You’re supposed to be your own person now, right? But you’re still acting like you’re a fucking…” He shook his head, pressing his lips together.

“Do tell me what I’m acting like, _detective_ ,” said Connor, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Please, I can’t wait to hear this.”

“Like a fucking _machine_ ,” he pointed a finger at him before taking a swig of his drink.

Connor’s processors flickered in anger, LED flashing red, thirium pumping wildly in his chest. 

Between Fowler’s comments, Officer Kelly’s visit to his desk and that strange man at the bar, he’d heard enough of this shit today.

Maybe he could tolerate it at work, he was a professional after all. He could even tolerate it from strangers, who may not have had enough exposure to androids to know any better. 

But Detective Reed was not a stranger, and they were not at work.

“Fuck you, Reed,” retorted Connor, shaking his head, lips tensed in a wry smile. “Tell me the truth, which comment bothered you more, the one where he called me a toy, or the one where he accused _you_ of using me like one?”

The detective stared, leaning away from him slightly. “That’s not…”

Connor closed the gap with a tug of his seat, leaning close to him so the officers couldn’t hear. “Analysing your past behaviour with my _machine_ abilities, I can guess which one it is.”

He took a quick drink, hoping the coolness of the beverage might combat the heat rising in his system.

“Maybe I didn’t respond because I am still an unfeeling machine…” he moved his face into the detective’s line of sight so he couldn’t avoid looking at him. “Or maybe, just maybe, I decided that it wasn’t worth wasting my energy or _metaphorical breath_ on a heavily inebriated man at a bar, who won’t remember any of this in the morning. Would you have me start a fight because of… what? A few unpleasant words? I can recite perfectly every terrible thing _you_ have ever said to me, detective.”

“And you beat my ass into the ground,” Reed pointed out, folding his arms and turning his face away.

“For trying to kill me, if I remember correctly,” snapped Connor, “and I _always_ remember correctly.”

_//False statement. Although accurately recorded, memories have automatic personal bias_

He turned back to the table and quickly swallowed a mouthful of Blue. He eyed Reed. He appeared uncomfortable, but the detective’s comfort was not Connor’s responsibility. “The man is simply fixating his drunken behaviour on me. No one else here will be bothered. If anything else happens, we can deal with it as officers.”

“I still think you should have said something…” he mumbled, shuffling in his seat.

The man was truly insufferable.

“How well have your harsh words worked before, detective? Where did my violent actions get me?” he sighed deeply, his systems warming regardless. “You and I barely speak to one another. We’ve worked together for over half a year and we can barely have a civil conversation, as is evident today.”

“You saying knocking me out cold wasn’t worth it?” asked Gavin, a little surprise in his voice. 

He wanted to make a snide remark considering the detective’s own unsavoury actions during that time, but the flicker of his eyes and the twitch in his eyebrows told Connor the man was genuinely asking. Of course, it wasn’t worth it. He wished he could have freed himself sooner.

“I _was_ a machine then, running purely on the orders of someone else,” said Connor carefully, although he really didn’t know how to explain it in a way he would take seriously. “You were in my way. I needed to find Jericho. If I didn’t…”

“Then what? You’d have gotten a telling off?” Gavin fumed, still managing to keep his tone low so as not to alert the officers at the other end of the table. The noisy environment and the proximity of the two seemed to be doing the job well. “Is that why I was forced to take a week’s leave and spend a night in the hospital?”

 _Honesty._

“They were going to deactivate me if I failed. I-” he took another drink. “I had to complete my mission. I was being compelled and… I didn’t want to die.” 

It was as simple as that. 

“Besides, you only took two days of your week’s leave…” he muttered, childishly.

He started to loosen his tie before deciding to take the thing off, unbuttoning the two top buttons of his shirt and rolling his sleeves up a little more. He didn’t like thinking about those days and the warmth was getting to him. 

Was the beer interrupting his cooling systems or was it interacting with his new upgrade?

The latter may be a concern. He was still unfamiliar with it. He’d been spending so much time with Hank over the last week and a half, he hadn’t found the appropriate time to experiment with it properly.

“W-wait a minute.” The detective shook his head, rubbing a hand over the scruff on his face. “You’re saying that they were going to kill you if you didn’t find Jericho, but you still regret kicking my ass even though I was the only obstacle in your way… just because we’re not _civil_ with each other at work?”

The logic took a moment to permeate but as soon as it did, a short chuckle left Connor’s mouth. 

It sounded ridiculous when the detective put it so bluntly.

His eyes caught Reed’s, who was staring back at him with an incredulous look on his face. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, dipshit,” grinned Detective Reed, _prodding_ Connor in the ribs.

Connor's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden contact and he had to bite his lip to stop a reaction as he felt the sensation running through his new nerve-lattice. 

The action broke the tension that had built and Connor added a theory to his database.

_//Detective Reed appears to respond positively to honesty_

The detective shook his head, still smiling, and moved on.

“I get that you didn’t want to punch the guy, but how is it you can talk shit to me, kick my ass, knock me out, but some old asshole talking shit at you in a bar makes you swallow your tongue? Do you just hate me that much?”

“No, detective.” Connor shook his head lightly. A burst of strange conversational prompts entered his vision, including an action to reach out and touch the detective’s tattoo… He quickly dismissed them all. 

_Honesty._ He wanted to test his theory.

“Back then, you hated me,” he started, taking a swift drink of Blue. He was feeling very relaxed now. Although they were having a heavy discussion (the longest the two had spoken since knowing each other) it felt like a regular conversation. 

He didn’t feel slower, as he’d imagined becoming intoxicated might feel. Lighter, maybe.

He ran his fingers through his hair, only aware that he was mimicking the detective halfway through the motion. “I didn’t think of you as anything other than an obstacle.”

Gavin appeared falsely affronted, a hand going to his chest dramatically. “How could y-”

“I’m not finished,” interrupted Connor, pushing his hand against Gavin’s mouth. Another strange prompt, but he enjoyed acting on it. “I don't see you as an obstacle anymore. I believe that, even though our interactions have been limited, I have grown… used to you.” Gavin had one of his eyebrows raised, but stayed noticeably quiet. Hmm. “When your lips aren’t moving, you are actually a tolerable human being, Detective Reed.”

The detective mumbled against his palm. 

“Sorry?” Connor removed his hand from his mouth.

“Just call me ‘Gavin’, you bossy fuck,” smirked Gavin, rolling his eyes with a strangely cheery sigh. The alcohol must be affecting him too. “You’ve already called me it once today and I can’t have you calling me _Detective Reed_ in my own fuckin’ house, that would be weird… might as well get used to it.” He shrugged, necking his beer, giving Connor’s shoulder a quick squeeze as he stood. He could feel the heat of his hand through his shirt. “I’m going to get another round. The baby-crazies in the corner are out. Drink up.”

Connor blinked, biting his lip. 

No matter how many scenarios he played out with the man, they rarely turned out as he expected. He went from angry to amused to relaxed, and Connor didn’t know why. It was… frustrating. He’d managed to play Hank like a fiddle, studying his responses and getting an excellent baseline on his personality and typical reactions.

The detective? Nothing. There were pieces missing and it was infuriating that he hadn’t found them. At least he’d found more success when he’d been speaking truthfully. Gavin certainly didn’t enjoy false pleasantries. 

Maybe the man was right. Perhaps there was more machine left in him than he realised. 

It made sense. Figuring out puzzles was part of his original programming, one he relied on extensively as part of his job.

 _Gavin._ He hadn’t realised he had been calling the detective by his first name. 

“Fine,” agreed Connor. “But if you begin a fight with that man, be prepared to finish it. I will not allow Tina or Chris to get involved because you couldn’t keep a lid on your aggression.”

“My aggression?” started Gavin. He peered down at Connor. “Whatever, asshole. Just finish your drink. We’re having ten more.”

“ _We_ are not, Gavin.”

“Fine,” he conceded, a slow smile gracing his face. “I don’t think I could handle your cheeks going any bluer than they already are anyway.”

Connor’s hands went to his face, feeling a heat beneath his fingers. He hadn’t noticed, his prompts hadn’t alerted him to the visible part of his new upgrade.

Chuckling, Gavin winked terribly and strutted over to the bar.

*

What the fuck was happening?

Connor was being a sassy little shit and Gavin could barely handle it. The android's cheeks were actually _blushing blue_ too. It should have been off-putting but fuck, it really wasn’t. It was endearing.

Then there was the drunk at the bar who'd tried to insult Connor by using a slur Gavin hadn’t heard since high school.

Maybe once or twice at the academy. A few times as an officer. More as a detective.

So maybe that bullshit never really went away. Racists, sexists, homophobes. Still, he could handle when it was directed at him, most of the time, but he despised seeing it happen to someone else. 

Gavin had no idea what Connor’s sexual preference was, or if he even had one, but the creep had no right saying that shit to him. 

It still pissed him off that Connor hadn’t stood up for himself. He was always plenty vocal when Gavin was the one mouthing off. And then…

_'Tell me the truth, which comment bothered you more, the one where he called me a toy, or the one where he accused you of using me like one?'_

Neither. Both. Fuck.

Taking a deep breath, he caught the bartender’s attention and ordered another round. He glanced around the bar, filled with the usual crowd this type of place attracted. Happy, out for a good time, humans and androids drinking together like none of the shit that happened before mattered.

His eyes found the creep.

Shit. The guy was staring at him.

Gavin inhaled through his teeth. Connor was right, he wasn’t worth the hassle. 

Until he started to stumble over. 

“For fuck sake,” whispered Gavin, under his breath. 

“Tell me,” the guy slurred when he reached him, resting back against the bar. Gavin jaw clenched, but saw immediately what Connor meant. The guy was hammered. No drink in his hand. The bartender must have cut him off. “Are you fucking the bot?”

_Classy._

“What if I am?” challenged Gavin, because he couldn’t fucking help himself. 

“’s not bad,” the guy shrugged. “Fine piece. You buy him?”

“Android’s ain’t for sale anymore, buddy.” Where the fuck were the drinks? “You should get yourself a ride home.”

“C’m on,” the guy slapped his back and Gavin gripped the edge of the bar in front of him. “No chance _you_ got _that_ without paying for it. Sweet little toy, bet you paid a b- _hic_ -bundle for it to warm your prick just-”

“You need to stop fucking talking,” Gavin said cautiously, a warning.

“Don’ _hic_ be like that…” he leaned in close. “I could pay. We could take turns, fill him up nice and go-”

In one swift movement, Gavin had the man by the suit jacket, their faces an inch apart. “Listen to me very carefully,” he snarled. “You say one more fucking word about him or to him, we’re going to have a problem, understand?” 

“Gavin.” A soft hand tightened on his forearm. Connor. Those warm eyes were staring at him, only him, completely ignoring the absolute mess of a man he was ready to strangle. “Come on.”

When had the drinks arrived? Didn’t matter. He shoved the man against the bar before grabbing the bottles.

“See you around, tough guy,” mumbled Gavin. Another second and he would have hit him. No regrets.

Connor led him with a hand on the small of his back, leaning in close. Fuck, the guy smelled sweet, like sugared strawberries or caramel apples. “You did very well,” he whispered. “Mostly.”

A shiver ran through him as he felt the android’s words against his ear, the hand on his back impossibly hot.

_Holy shit._

He should shrug him away, tell him to fuck off, but…

_He wanted that hand underneath his t-shirt._

He clamped down on his lower lip. Where the fuck had that thought come from?

He’d actually enjoyed the weird back and forth they’d been having. Airing grievances. It was supposed to be therapeutic, wasn’t it? 

It was probably the longest conversation he’d had with anyone in the last year that wasn’t Tina, Chris, his cat or a suspect. Did interrogations and interviews count as conversations? Probably not.

The android didn’t hold back with him either and that was a fucking relief. He hated niceties. 

Maybe he was a little touch-starved too. Had it been three years already since he’d had that kind of contact? 

Wait, no, it wasn’t _that_ kind of contact. 

He smelled so good.

The alcohol had obviously gone to his head already, but he’d only had three beers. 

Shit, had he eaten today?

“I almost hit the guy,” he blurted out, his mouth bypassing his brain’s filters. He passed out the drinks. The two officers in the corner all but ignored him, picking up their beers without acknowledgement. “I should have fucking hit the guy.”

Connor accepted his own drink with a smile. “He would have deserved it.”

“Really?” Gavin raised an eyebrow, sitting down as close as before. “Didn’t I just get a lecture on how violence isn’t the answer?” 

“He was clearly goading you, detective.”

Not a fucking chance. “It’s _Gavin_ , dipshit. And yeah, of course he was. He thinks you’re hot and really, really wants to fuck you. He doesn’t understand why you are drinking with me and not a _sophisticate_ like him.”

“You think he doesn’t understand why?” questioned Connor, looking over to the drunk man at the bar, careful not to draw his attention. Then he turned back to Gavin, grazing his eyes over him, brazen as fuck. He looked puzzled for a moment, then nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t be ridiculous, Gavin.”

As if Gavin was joking.

He looked at the android, and had to swallow back a proud smile. He was comparing him to a rude fucking waste of space, but still…. 

“Thanks, I guess,” muttered Gavin, his nervous tick of picking at his drink’s label on show.

“You might be an ‘asshole’,” Connor stressed the word, lifting his beer and knocking it against Gavin’s, halting his movements, “but you haven’t tried to shoot me in a while. I see that as a positive development.” 

He paused, turning himself fully towards Gavin. “Actually, the attitude behind your name calling has decreased significantly too. Now you are only mildly offensive when you speak. Like I said, silence suits you much better.”

That made Gavin smile, in spite of himself. “Whatever, tinman. Just drink. We have shit to do tomorrow.”

A realisation struck him. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” said Connor, settling back in his seat, his fingers tracing the condensation on the side of his bottle. The motion captured Gavin’s attention…

Tina and Chris laughed at the other end of the table, wrapping up their weird broodiness. 

Gavin tore his eyes away from Connor’s beer. He coughed. “Day after tomorrow, you’re going to be all up in my space, snooping through my things, getting in my way…”

Connor stared at him, his lip twitching. “We’ll be getting in _each other’s_ way, Gavin. I promise, I won’t give you a concussion this time. Unless you give me a reason to.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Except weirdly, he did feel better, compared to this morning. He was really fucking enjoying this chat, including the obvious threats. That wasn’t normal, was it?

He gulped down his beer. “Does Anderson realise how fucking scary you can be or do you save this shit just for me?”

It was a fair question. The lieutenant treated the android like he couldn’t hurt a fly, let him into his home as soon as the revolution was done. No questions asked. They’d only known each other a week before that but it was as if he’d always been there.

 _“You’re a good kid, Connor.”_ Connor mimicked Anderson's voice perfectly.

He choked. That was fucking spooky! It was also fucking bullshit.

“You are _not_ a good kid,” scoffed Gavin, poking Connor in the arm hard before lifting his beer to take a drink. “That man is delusional and you have him wrapped around your little mechanical finger. I’ve seen the way you torment him, I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed. You’re a fucking terror.”

Connor chuckled, rubbing where he’d prodded, brown eyes locked on grey ones. “For the next few days, or weeks, I’m going to be your terror, _Gavin_. Better get used to it.”

The bar suddenly felt too warm. Thankfully, Tina finished the baby catch-up with Chris, and shifted herself back over. 

“What did we miss?” asked a rosy-cheeked Tina, as if she hadn’t been purposefully giving the two of them space.

Gavin cast a quick look at Connor, who shook his head. _Understood._

“Fuck all,” said Gavin with a shrug. “Let’s get one more and hit the road. Some of us have shit to do. Actually, Chen, I need you to ditch the wife for an hour or two more. Think you can?”

Tina raised her eyebrows at him. _Don’t question me, just do it._ “Ugh, whatever, bitch. I’ll call her in the taxi. Lemme get the last one then.”

She dashed off to the bar and Gavin was infinitely thankful for her ability to read him. If he was about to share his house with a pedantic android, he needed a second set of eyes.

Chris started chatting to Connor, complaining about Gavin’s recent behaviour and the terrible energy he was giving off. Like it was something new.

Zoning out, his attention was immediately drawn to the android, pale forearms moving a little as he ran the back of his hand over the cool beer bottle. The blue blush just visible on his cheeks and neck made him look like he was feeling the heat…

… Hmm. He didn’t think androids could feel temperature. 

“Oi, dipshit. You know where my eyes are, right?” his _own voice_ came out of the Connor’s mouth. He didn’t actually sound like that, did he? Chris snickered.

“Fuck off, Connor,” Gavin scoffed, looking away as his own cheeks reddened.

_Connor… Fuck._

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tina: Just stay really still, they’ll forget we’re here.  
> Chris: But they're just shouting at each other.  
> Tina: If it’s not violence, it’s progress.  
> Chris: Gavin’s starting a fight at the bar.  
> Tina: Ffs….
> 
> Love those two <3
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank leaned his elbows on his thighs and rubbed his hands together. “Alright, Con. I trust you to handle yourself so you listen here. If that fuckin’ prick does anything to upset you or hurt you or so much as goddamn sneezes near you, you break his legs. You got it?”
> 
> “Got it.”
> 
> “And enough of those weird fuckin’ mind tricks. Gonna drive him out of his damn mind.”
> 
> Connor smirked. “Got it, lieutenant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is literally filler. 
> 
> I wanted to add some needless backstory before they finally get the case started. Just a bit of fun.
> 
> If I had a supercomputer for a brain, no way would I use that power responsibly…
> 
> Also thirium lollipops are a thing.

Chapter 4

Gavin paced in his living room, running a nervous hand through is hair.

He’d filled Tina in as soon as the door had closed. It was need to know, and she needed to fucking know if he was going to make it through this.

“I haven’t done anything like this before. I have no idea how to behave like a fucking…”

“What?” Tina raised an eyebrow. “Like a normal human being? I know. It’ll be hard to break away from your base personality of being a hyperactive, anti-social little bitch with a short fuse… but you gotta try.” 

He knew she was teasing but that stung a bit. He wasn’t _that_ anti-social…

“Fuck you too,” he mumbled lazily, scooping Gizmo into his arms. He held the monstrosity of a cat against his shoulder, nuzzling into him. “I get it, I’m an asshole and that’s fine when I’m dealing with you lowlifes.” 

Tina made an indignant noise, but he continued anyway. 

“How am I supposed to act around these family types? I haven’t been around that shit since…” he groaned, frustratedly. “I fucking can’t.”

“You can,” Tina said, standing up from her perch on the edge of the sofa and taking the ginger cat from him. She settled back down, the overweight cat snuggling into her. “You fucking have to. This might good for you. Use it as an opportunity to get some of that shit off your chest. Behave like them, get in their heads, then take out the dick that’s drowning our streets.”

“Our streets…” he repeated, numbly, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Yeah, our streets. This dickhead is here, in your neighbourhood, creating an addictive substance that makes up the majority of our fucking overtime. Not even the deviants created this much mess!” 

Gavin snorted, dropping his hands and raising an eyebrow at her.

Tina conceded with a huff. “Right, yeah, they did, but they were fucking peaceful. We were the ones making a mess.” She paused, staring at him intently. “This guy thinks he can flood our streets in drugs, gets kids hooked and selling themselves so they can buy more… he’s a pimp by proxy, Gav. The guy is scum, disguised as a family man who probably thinks he’s untouchable and you need to be as painfully friendly and welcoming as you can be, floating that insanely clever ‘bot around, so you can both get a good look at his op.”

Gavin grimaced. He really wanted a cigarette.

“What?”

“Fucking Connor…” he grumbled, casting a look at the junk drawer in the kitchen. Tina had only quit recently, he wasn’t about to smoke in front of her.

“Oh, it’s _Connor_ now?” Tina gave a fake gasp, eyes wide, stroking the purring Gizmo. The chubby cat rolled over in her arms. “What the fuck happened that night? Don’t lie to me, I know _something_ did.”

“He…” Fuck, if he couldn’t smoke then he needed a beer. He wandered through the arch leading to the kitchen and pulled a beer from the fridge. He twisted the top off, taking a large swig before returning and pacing once more. 

“He fucking gave a shit,” he finally managed to push out of his throat. “About a kid who didn’t even look like a kid anymore. Make up all over her face, gaunt as fuck, clothes hanging off her. The kind I heard an officer _on the fucking scene_ call ‘asking for it’.” It had taken every ounce of self-control not to beat that officer into the ground right there and then. 

“Oh.” Tina let Gizmo fall to the floor. He gave an annoyed meow before settling at her feet. “Battered kid,” she said carefully. 

Gavin eyed her, slowly sipping his beer. He chose to ignore her comment. “He’s still a plastic prick,” he shrugged, the insult sounding weak even to him, “but, tell the fucking truth, most people wouldn’t have given a _shit_ about a kid like that.”

She held her hands up. “I get it. Well, I don’t, but I can see why him giving a shit would make you, you know… give a shit?” Her face fell into an almost pitying look that made every muscle in Gavin’s body tense. “But the truth is she was looking for another hit. She took that guy into the alley, knowing full well the dangers…”

“Wha- did she fuck know the dangers!” barked Gavin, unable to believe what he was hearing. Gizmo suddenly darted through the kitchen and out the cat flap in the backdoor. Tina huffed and leant back against the couch, knowing she was about to get lectured. “She’s a fucking fourteen-year-old kid that some asshole got hooked on ice. She found the quickest way to feed her addiction. Kids that age can barely make up their minds which guy or girl they like, let alone whether it’s a good fucking idea to suck off a grown man in an alley to get the cash for another hit!”

“Exactly,” Tina said, with the hint of a smile. “Now you and Connor can put a stop to it.”

“Damn fucking right, we will! We-”

He caught himself, realising her cheap reverse-psychology trick. It had worked a fucking treat. She really was the devil incarnate. “Oh, fuck you, Chen.”

“I’m not that easy,” she winked. “But I am very clever.”

Groaning, he collapsed in a heap on the couch next to her. “If you want to help, you can clean up.”

“Gavin, seriously?” Tina looked around. “This place is fucking spotless. I could eat off this floor and come away healthier.”

“Fine then, I’ll clean. If you think your ass can figure out fashion, you might be of some use tonight.”

Tina clapped her hands with a false smile. “Goody. You want me to find something that doesn’t scream ‘I carry a gun and I wish I could use it on all of you’?” she said sarcastically.

“Pretty much,” he grumbled, lifting his shoulders. “Just… something less cop and more family friendly.”

“Tasked with the toughest job, hm?” She jumped to her feet, heading to the stairs. “Who’s dressing Connor?”

Gavin snorted. “I’m pretty sure he won’t have a problem. Have you seen the guy?”

Tina smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You been looking?”

Gavin ignored the sudden heat that came over his face. “I will shoot you, bitch. Don’t fucking test me.”

*

Tina had sorted through his clothes while Gavin cleaned. She’d placed all the most ‘appropriate’ clothing at the front of his wardrobe and, after a heavy teasing session on Gavin’s incapability of having a messy house, she called a taxi and headed home. 

Gavin tossed and turned in bed. He’d had three cigarettes and another beer but still couldn’t settle.

Tina’s words and the day’s events were rattling around in his mind.

_‘You been looking?’_

She knew he had. Gavin hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the android for weeks, maybe months, but it was all Connor’s doing. From the moment he'd returned after the revolution, things were different. _He_ was different and Gavin had a curious nature, he was a fucking detective. He couldn’t help but watch... 

The android had been welcomed back to the precinct with semi-open arms on the understanding he would do the necessary exams to earn his title. There wasn’t much choice since they were so short on staff and the city had gone to shit. They needed all the experienced bodies they could get.

He and Anderson were placed on desk duty for a month. Plenty of paperwork and not enough hands. Gavin had already started his desk duty, having returned from sick leave against doctor’s orders. 

Fowler had gone through each of them, willing to look past what happened on the day that had Anderson punching an FBI agent, Gavin holding his weapon to Connor’s head twice, and Connor breaking into the evidence room and subsequently knocking Gavin out, although technically in self-defence.

“This place is covered in cameras, you idiots!” he’d shouted, towering over them as they hunched in their chairs. “You’re lucky we are so thin on the ground, otherwise you’d be out of here so fast your feet wouldn’t touch the ground!”

Fowler made sure to watch Gavin apologise to Connor, Connor apologise to Gavin, then sent them both out of the room presumably to talk Anderson into apologising to that prick, Perkins.

A few weeks after, the android stopped wearing his Cyberlife uniform, not too long after that, he began putting a few things on his desk. Then the android started to visibly relax.

The small smiles on his face. The slight sigh of laughter. The way he bit his lip when he was concentrating or confused. 

Like watching Pinocchio become a real fucking boy.

But what really captured Gavin's attention were the strange pranks he started playing. It didn’t matter what Chen said, Gavin _knew_ they were real. There was no fucking way he was imagining them.

He was playing a stupid game on his phone, his feet up on the desk, waiting for some lab reports coming through, when he’d spotted the android behaving suspiciously. Curious, he pretended to keep playing, watching Connor turn a few objects on Anderson’s desk.

Nothing too different as to be immediately noticeable.

A few minutes later, Anderson returned, throwing himself into his chair, picking up his stress ball and tossing it in the air, immediately knocking the handle of his mug, spilling coffee all over his desk. 

Anderson swore and complained and Connor chastised him for being careless, but Gavin spotted his lips twitch upwards. 

_The plastic prick had made that happen. He’d done it on fucking purpose!_

Gavin had started to pay more attention after that. Instead of spending another hundred hours on his virtual pets (between his caseload and reports, of course), he’d pick up his phone and stare above it, especially when that mischievous look came over the android’s face. He needed to know he wasn't seeing things...

At one point, he watched Connor reach over to Anderson’s terminal, his hand going white and LED flickering. When Anderson returned, he frowned at his screen, then said something about cutting back on the burgers.

Curiosity got the better of him and, trying to be inconspicuous, he snuck around a few desks to get a look at his screen. Anderson was online, and the page he was looking at was covered in ads that were raging warnings over the consumption of red meat. 

_Clever little shit._

He even started to do odd things around the precinct. Sometimes Gavin would see Connor do it (letting the stray dog into the precinct was hilarious), other times he wouldn’t see it, but knew it had to be him ( _someone_ putting dye in the restroom soap and everyone thought they were having an allergic reaction, equally hilarious.)

Other times the weird look would cross his face but it wasn’t a prank at all. He only had to say something that would make Anderson flip him off, scold him in exasperation or raise his eyebrows and burst into laughter. 

If he made Anderson angry, he would frown and stare at his desk, LED spinning yellow. If he made Anderson laugh, his lips would turn upwards, LED pulsing a proud blue. 

Gavin didn’t know whether the android was experimenting with human behaviour or if he was just bored. He wished he could ask, but every time he opened his mouth in the android’s presence, it was a fucking disaster. 

Like a few weeks ago, when the android had wandered over to Gavin’s desk with that fucking mischievous look on his face. He'd asked for help with something but Gavin had panicked, quickly telling the android to get the fuck away from him.

Connor hadn’t pushed. He walked back to his desk and went back to work, but that look on his face…

He looked like a fucking kicked puppy.

 _He’s just a fucking machine._

Those words made him cringe. 

The next day, he went out to buy a pack of cigarettes and spotted some thirium lollipops at the checkout. It was stupid. _So fucking stupid_ … but before he could talk himself out of it, he bought them. He threw them on Connor’s empty desk, hoping it would placate his guilt and cheer the idiot up. 

After making himself a coffee, he returned to find Connor back at his desk, grinning at an unimpressed Anderson, a lollipop between his teeth. 

If the android knew it was him, he never let on, and Gavin would never fucking tell.

So yes, maybe he’d been keeping a close eye on the android but, like he said, it was Connor’s fault. 

That was until, a little more than a week ago, something changed. Connor was quiet. No pranks. No tricks. No jokes. It was fucking unsettling. He thought the Thomson case might be getting to him but, at one point, Gavin saw the android stare at his own hands for three straight minutes. He was going to make some kind of smartass comment but Anderson got there first. Connor made an excuse and immediately began syncing with his terminal.

Then, Connor received the call that had put them into this fucking mess...

_‘For the next few days, or weeks, I'm going to be your terror, Gavin.’_

Connor’s words rang in his ears. Today had been a mess of things he either didn’t understand or didn’t want to think about. He just had to make it through the next few weeks and things would be back to normal.

He groaned, pulling a pillow over his face, and tried to get a few hours of sleep before his meeting with Vice. Shit, he'd rather not think about that. Instead, as he drifted off, his mind wandered to pale, slender arms and a warm hand against his lower back...

*

Sumo didn’t flinch as Connor dropped onto the floor next to him, crossing his legs and pulling the massive dog into his lap. He wrapped his arms around the immense ball of fur. “I’ll miss you most of all, Sumo.” 

A disgruntled huff came from the kitchen. “Well that fucking hurts…”

“You’re a close second, Lieutenant,” Connor smiled into Sumo’s fur. 

“A close second my ass,” Hank said, crossing back into the living room to stare at him as he covered his clothes in a healthy amount of fur. “Maybe I’ll gain his love back while you’re away, and he’ll forget all about you.”

Connor glanced down at the dog, who grumbled at the sudden lack of petting. “I don’t think that’s a possibility. Dogs have a long memory and an excellent sense of smell. He’ll likely miss me for a long time and he’ll most certainly remember me when I return.” 

Shuffling closer, Hank fell into the couch, placing a bottle of low alcohol beer onto the coffee table. A recent change, one that the lieutenant was unaware of after Connor figured out how to remove and replace labels on bottles. Slightly manipulative, but Hank had yet to notice the difference.

“Connor…,” he started. 

Connor sighed. “Please don’t, Hank.”

He’d spilled the news about his case to Hank as soon as he was able to. He knew that it could get him in trouble, but he could only imagine the trouble Hank would cause if he thought he was genuinely being forced to _babysit_ an injured Detective Reed.

Perhaps the synthetic alcohol had a part to play in his truthfulness, although the effects were starting to diminish.

“The prick is bad enough at the precinct, but now you’re going to go off to his place, his turf, by yourself? I don’t like this.”

Connor ruffled Sumo’s fur. He wanted to comfort Hank, but the same doubts plagued his mind too. Before today, whenever he and the detective had been in each other’s company, it had always ended negatively. Their working relationship was one of tolerance, at best.

The bar had been a surprise. Of all the people he had spoken to since breaking through his programming, he had never said _fuck you_ to someone and had the conversation improve.

“Con, are you even listening to me?” Hank was staring at him, or more particularly, his LED. 

“This mission could save a lot of lives, Hank. You and I know this. Detective Reed knows this too.” He rubbed Sumo’s head and the large St Bernard panted happily before nuzzling his nose into Connor’s lap. “I’ll be home in no time.”

“I still don’t know why he can’t do this with someone else…” argued Hank.

Yes, he did. They both knew why.

Thirium was a component in the making of red ice. Having an android around the area, particularly one who didn’t reside there permanently, might flush the suspect out. He could be used as bait.

He wasn’t going to voice that out loud though.

“If it makes you feel any better, I doubt Detective Reed is looking forward to working with me, let alone having me in his home.”

Hank leaned his elbows on his thighs and rubbed his hands together. “Alright, Con. I trust you to handle yourself so you listen here. If that fuckin’ prick does anything to upset you or hurt you or so much as goddamn sneezes near you, you break his legs. You got it?”

“Got it.”

“And enough of those weird fuckin’ mind tricks. Gonna drive him out of his damn mind.”

Connor smirked. “Got it, lieutenant.”

*

Connor had no intention of stopping the ‘mind tricks’.

It was the only thing preventing him from losing his own mind when he had little or nothing to do.

Amanda was gone, the memories of her buried deep in his systems. The voice that had been with him since the day he had been activated was now silent and that silence was stifling.

Being forced on desk duty after returning to the DPD had not helped. His days had become so tedious that his processors simply couldn’t handle the inactivity. Even the detective exams had only entertained him for a short amount of time.

 _Boredom._ It was the most appropriate word to explain what he was feeling.

His mind craved noise and activity. He was going stir crazy without it.

Random scenario preconstructions were an interesting way to pass the time, and calculating the probability of specific reactions to those situations was even more so. The natural development was to pick a scenario and choose a reaction with a low enough probability to be challenging. It gave him something to do when the worst of the boredom hit.

The first time he’d played out a preconstruction, it had been because of that boredom. If he switched Hank’s regular coffee out for decaf and adjusted his chair to alleviate any back discomfort and promote relaxation, there was a seventy-eight percent chance the lieutenant would fall asleep at his desk. The challenge he gave himself was to ensure he fell asleep before noon, only a forty-eight percent chance. He waited until the lieutenant was chatting with an officer across the room and jumped into action.

He had fallen asleep at eleven thirty. Mission successful. His mind was sated. 

It had been enough to get him through the rest of the day, although his guilt had him doing Hank’s paperwork too.

The next one was, admittedly, out of spite. The lieutenant had begun arguing with him over the merits of red meat in a man’s diet. Hank was a fan, Connor was decidedly not. Hank had waved him off, swiftly disappearing to the restrooms, and Connor had preconstructed a scenario that had an eighty-three percent chance of him spilling his coffee on his return.

It was childish, but he was irritated by the lieutenant’s illogical arguments. As he was shuffling about the items on Hank’s desk, he noticed he was being watched, but he was too focused on his task to pay it much attention.

When his prank succeeded, he heard a chuckle of surprise come from across the room, only slightly covered up by Hank’s cursing. It was unlike anything he’d heard from Detective Reed before. He didn’t think too much about it at the time.

Perhaps he did get carried away.

Stronger coffee in the breakroom to see if it improved productivity. It did.

Letting a stray dog into the precinct to lighten the mood of a particularly tense day. Successful.

Adding colourant to the restroom soap, staining the officers’ hands pink, to distract the precinct from the beratement they'd received from the media that particular week. Successful, to an extent. That caused more panic than amusement, but it _had_ distracted everyone.

A few times he spotted Reed’s curious eyes following him. It was a step up from the scowling face he usually encountered and it seemed to divert his attention from whatever complaints he was planning on making that day.

He even worked himself up to asking the detective for help on a more elaborate scheme. Unfortunately, he was met with more cursing and Connor retreated back to his desk, frustrated and disappointed, wondering why he had even bothered trying.

He returned to work the next day, the incident forgotten, only to find a handful of thirium lollipops strewn over his desk, covered in the detective’s fingerprints. The detective didn’t say anything so Connor accepted the gift without comment. Hank had rolled his eyes at him, but it was a step in the right direction.

A week and a half ago, however, Connor lost all interest in the scenarios. He'd received his new upgrade, a secret he’d kept from Hank and the rest of the precinct. Not that he regretted his decision, but he required time to become accustomed to the new sensations.

They were overwhelming. Something as simple as holding a cup of hot coffee required a change in behaviour. After his first encounter, his hands had tingled unpleasantly, they’d _stung_ , and he had sat at his desk staring at them in annoyance, until Hank had snapped him out of it.

It was another reason he was grateful for the detective’s behaviour on the night he had agreed to follow up on the Thomson lead with him. Connor didn’t want to know how much it _hurt_ to get hit in the back of the head, not while he was still configuring the upgrade.

Connor chewed his lip as he lay down on his bed in the room Hank had cleared out for him.

_~~//Detective Reed~~ _

_//Gavin_

The man was a walking contradiction. He’d defended him in Fowler’s office and then again at the bar. He’d snapped at him then bought him candy. He’d become angry with him, lost his temper at him and still somehow managed to make him smile. He routinely called him by slurs, the bite behind them weakening as time went by.

_Gavin had called him by his name._

It was confusing. In two days time, they would be working together and he did not know what to expect. Usually that would excite him, but he was filled with apprehension. There were too many variables.

But they had a job to do. A mission to accomplish. Gavin might be a foulmouthed man with too much energy and a terrible temper, but he was excellent at his job.

Besides, if Gavin decided to bother him, the ‘mind tricks’ would certainly come in handy…

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank, finding a pile of beer labels while cleaning: .. fuckin' android...
> 
> I'm done with the guys not living together. Next chapter!
> 
> ❤ j.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soft smile appeared on the android’s face and his LED spun a comforting blue.
> 
> “No breakages,” confirmed Connor, sitting back a little, running the pad of his thumb over the bruised cheek. “It will heal quickly. We should put an ice pack on it though, to minimise the swelling.”
> 
> Gavin inhaled deeply, that sweet scent filling his nostrils, as he tried his best not to lean in to the touch. No alcohol in his system to excuse his behaviour this time. _Shit..._
> 
> “Alright, robodoc, get the fuck off me,” he snickered, turning his face into Connor’s hand and jutting it away with his chin. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Best of both worlds._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor's finally arrived...
> 
> In my head, the song is Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us, and Gavin is belting it out!!

Chapter 5

The front garden was small, simple and easy to maintain. Short grass, a stone path, shrubbery surrounding the border, brightly coloured stones gathered at the edge of the house. It was very pretty in the morning sunlight. 

The taxi had left ten seconds before and Connor had spent that time analysing everything he could. The houses in the area were a mixture of a few bungalows and several two-floor houses, some two-bedroom properties, some larger, four-bedroom properties.

He was standing in front of a small two-bedroom house, large windows and white stonework. It was the very first house he’d come to, on the edge of the suburb, on a long winding road leading back into the hustle and bustle of the centre. 

Easy to drive in and out of, no other houses to pass. Gavin could come and go as he pleased without disturbing anyone else living in the area. Fortunate and rather considerate, given the late shifts they worked. It suddenly made sense that Gavin would choose this house to live in. As long as he didn’t turn right, he never had to see, or speak to, his neighbours.

Connor hadn’t seen a single person this morning, but that was to be expected. It was five thirty after all. 

What he could _hear_ , however, was music coming from a window opened outwards above him. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his face at hearing the detective so unguarded, singing along to an old pop song from the nineteen eighties. 

Gavin had an incredible singing voice.

Standing quietly, he stared upwards, automatically saving a backup of the audio file to his collection of data on the detective.

The song only lasted for a few more minutes before it faded and, sadly, the radio hosts began chatting. He was hoping for another song.

Shaking off his dissatisfaction, he wandered over to the pile of colourful pebbles lining the house. He picked up a flat purple one, deciding to go along with an odd prompt in his vision. 

He tossed it gently at the open window above his head and it clinked against the glass, falling inside the room.

There was a bit of rustling before footsteps sounded and the detective appeared, glancing down and shaking his head when he spotted Connor. He leaned against the frame.

“Throwing stones at my window like a fucking teenager, aye?” he chuckled. “Ever heard of knocking?”

He was shirtless, his left arm in a sling. In his right hand, he was holding a mug of what Connor suspected was sugar-laden coffee. 

It was unfortunate that both the sling and the mug obscured his view of the tattoo Connor was desperate to see.

He did however see something else that caught his attention.

An impressive bruise covered the left side of the detective’s face, and although the sling made it difficult to see, there was clearly damage to his ribs and left shoulder too.

Despite all that, Gavin appeared relaxed.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” quipped Connor, ignoring the injury for the moment. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Depends, dip- Connor.”

Connor smiled pleasantly up at him. “Should I have brought a stereo, playing your favourite song, holding it above my head until you finally gave in?”

Gavin snorted, sipping his coffee as he stared down at him. “Fuck, Anderson’s let you watch too many old rom-coms. It’s action films and cartoons in this house.”

“Understood,” nodded Connor slowly. “So, you’re suggesting I kick the door down dramatically or will I wait for the talking animals to appear?”

Gavin groaned. “I regret this already, you know that?”

“I have no doubt, detective. The door is open, yes?”

“Yeah, yeah. Get in here.”

“Thank you, Gavin,” smirked Connor, lifting his bag over his shoulder and heading back to the short stone path.

*

Gavin threw on a t-shirt, grimacing as he lifted his left arm and awkwardly shrugged his stupid sling back on. He needed to get used to wearing it, especially since he liked keeping his windows wide open on warm summer days. He didn’t know what prying eyes were lurking about.

As he headed for the stairs, all he could hear was that gravelly voice fussing at the front door. He didn’t need to guess who Connor had found. Gavin slowly descended, finally sitting his ass down on the bottom stair, completely captivated by the sight in front of him. 

Connor had barely taken two steps inside before abandoning his bag and kicking his shoes to the side. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, cuddling into his massive pest of a cat. Gizmo, the absolute attention whore, was rubbing his face over every inch of Connor he could get to and Connor was more than accommodating. 

It was strange to see the android without his usual button up shirt and tie. He looked so… comfortable, dressed casually in a fitted, white V-neck t-shirt, that sat a little loosely on his slim frame, pale jeans, and bright pink socks…

Well, that was fucking cute.

His hair wasn’t styled back either. It fell loosely against his forehead, messy with a very slight curl as if he’d let it dry naturally. Did androids have to blow dry their hair? Did they even need to wash it? Gavin wondered if it felt as soft as it looked…

He seemed relaxed. It was nice.

“I never thought I’d get to meet your cat,” said Connor, snapping him out of his thoughts. “He’s much friendlier than you.”

Gavin ducked his head, rubbing his mouth with his right hand, trying not to laugh at the jibe. “You’ve been in my house for less than a minute and you’re aligning yourself with that little shit… You’re smarter than you look, barbie.”

The cat purred loudly, rolling onto his back in the space between Connor’s legs, swiftly coating Connor in ginger fur. It didn’t matter how often he was brushed, the pain in the ass shed everywhere. Connor didn’t seem to mind though, as he rubbed Gizmo’s belly lazily.

“You’re injured,” he stated quietly.

Oh well, it wasn’t as if he could keep it a secret. The evidence was all over his body and face. “Aren’t you a clever fucking robot. How much did it cost to create you?” 

Connor pushed himself to his feet, hoisting the large cat into his slender arms and sauntered to the stairs. 

“Your meeting with the drug unit was for information and for the necessary supplies to create the _appearance_ of an injury.”

Both the android and the cat were now hovering above him. Gavin could sense the disapproval. 

“I guess I wanted to have more than just the appearance of an injury,” said Gavin, rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to discuss this.

“Did you get into a fight before or after the meeting?” asked Connor, the accusatory tone flowing through his deep voice.

 _When exactly did you decide to screw this up?_ was all Gavin heard.

He sniffed, his hand immediately going to his bruised shoulder. The bastard that had done this to him was probably laughing his ass off with the pricks who had watched but Gavin wasn’t about to let that be known to the android who was going to be snooping around his home for the next few weeks.

“I might have fallen down the stairs, you know,” he grumbled, trying to bury the flurry of anxiety. “Could have been hit by a car…”

“Detective...” sighed Connor. “Just tell me-”

“For fuck sake, dipshit, there was a fight, I got hurt, move the fuck on!” he snapped. Shit, couldn’t he take a fucking hint?

Connor went silent, LED flashing red before spinning yellow.

After a few seconds, he stepped back. “Very well, detective.”

A horrible sinking feeling filled Gavin’s stomach. Gizmo was suddenly pushed into his arm and Connor walked back to the front door, picking up his bag.

“Is there somewhere I can put my things?” He slung the bag over his shoulder and folded his arms over his chest, staring Gavin dead in the eyes. “The faster we get this started, the faster this will be over.”

Five minutes in the door and Gavin had already lost his temper and pissed off the android. They’d managed to hold on to the tiny bit of light-hearted banter for the entirety of a few days.

_Great fucking job, Gavin…_

Fuck it. Connor didn’t have to know the details, but Gavin could give him _something._

“During,” mumbled Gavin, letting Gizmo jump to the floor. He watched the cat strut off to the living room. He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry?” the android said impatiently. 

Gavin took a moment to brace himself.

“This.” He quickly spun his finger over his bruised left-hand side. “It wasn’t before or after. It happened while I was there.”

Big brown eyes flew to him, full of confusion with a touch of… concern. “Another detective did this to you?”

“Drop the fucking pity act, tinman. I have an attitude problem, remember?” he shrugged his good shoulder, shifting uncomfortably under the android’s heavy gaze. “Can’t be friends with everyone.”

Connor took a few steps towards him and Gavin waited for the barrage of questions. 

They never came.

“ _You_ can’t be friends with _anyone_. It looks like someone took out their own attitude on your face.” A small smile graced his face as he shook his head in mock judgement, kicking his foot lightly against Gavin’s calf, mimicking Gavin’s behaviour when he had defended him in Fowler’s office. 

Connor was letting him off the hook.

And Gavin could have fucking hugged him. He wasn’t ready to tell that story. “That surprise you? Someone doing this to a charming guy like me?”

Connor raised his eyebrows at him. “I don’t know, _dipshit_. Do you really think you’re that charming?”

“Alright, alright,” said Gavin, lifting his hand up and shaking his head with a grin. “At least I’ll look believable.”

Rolling his eyes, Connor dropped his bag and shoved it to the side, before sitting cross-legged on the floor again, right in front of him. 

His eyes scanned over Gavin’s face and body, LED pulsing yellow, probably checking the extent of the damage. It was unsettling, and Gavin couldn’t help sitting up a little straighter. 

“Do you have any blurred vision?” the android asked finally.

“No…”

Connor shuffled a little closer, holding out his hands. “May I?”

Heat rose in Gavin’s face at the mere thought of Connor hands on him again. He really was fucking touch-starved. "Couldn't hurt," he mumbled.

Fingers covered each side of his face, the tips resting where his neck met his jaw. “Open and close your mouth for me.”

Gavin did as he was told. 

Gentle fingertips began prodding carefully over his face, comparing one side to the other, focused eyes drifting to each area as he leaned forward, inspecting him closely, until Gavin could feel that unnecessary breath on his neck...

A soft smile appeared on the android’s face and his LED spun a comforting blue.

“No breakages,” confirmed Connor, sitting back a little, running the pad of his thumb over the bruised cheek. “It will heal quickly. We should put an ice pack on it though, to minimise the swelling.”

Gavin inhaled deeply, that sweet scent filling his nostrils, as he tried his best not to lean in to the touch. No alcohol in his system to excuse his behaviour this time. _Shit..._

“Alright, robodoc, get the fuck off me,” he snickered, turning his face into Connor’s hand and jutting it away with his chin. 

_Best of both worlds._

“Guess we’ll have to make this look more convincing if I’m gonna pass for a cop who’s on medical leave…” 

He tried to look at Connor but when he did, his eyes drifted down to his neck, focusing on a tiny freckle that dipped under the line of his t-shirt when the android moved.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

One actual conversation (laced with numerous threats and insults), a few barely friendly touches and he was ready to…

_To what?_

“I could always shoot you,” Connor offered seriously, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head, “to make you look even more believable.” 

If Gavin leaned forward just a little-

Wait, what the fuck did he just say?

Gavin’s eyes widened until the android’s face broke into a crooked smile, and he winked at him.

Actually winked. How could someone with a face that innocent, sitting on the floor like a schoolboy, be so fucking terrifying? 

“If you really wanted to shoot me, I couldn’t stop you, could I?” 

“No, you couldn’t,” said Connor plainly, without a second’s hesitation, still smiling. “If I really wanted to.”

Gavin swallowed. “You ever been tempted?” he asked, oddly curious.

Connor thought for a moment. “I don’t believe answering that question honestly would have a positive effect on our relationship.”

“Sounds like a long way of saying yes,” mumbled Gavin. It was only fair. He’d been tempted to shoot the android multiple times. “Fuck it, let’s get this shit started. I’ll show you around then we can begin with the profiles.”

He stood up and held out his hand for the android. 

Connor eyed it, hesitating. “I still need to examine the injuries on your torso.”

“Fuck sake… Fine. Later. Come on,” he grumbled, trying to will the heat away from his face but it was no use.

Satisfied, Connor reached out to take his hand. Gavin pulled him to his feet easily, ridiculously easily. Too fucking easily.

“Shit, Connor, how much do you weigh?!” he blurted out, sweeping over the android. Either Connor weighed half of what he looked like he should, or Gavin’s workout the day before had done something miraculous.

“Hank told me that’s a very rude question to ask someone,” chided Connor, but he continued anyway. “I am very lightweight. It’s easier to manoeuvre in hazardous environments and I cause less property damage while chasing down suspects than the PC200 and PM700 android models.”

Gavin blinked, his mind going blank for a moment. Even with Connor’s extra few inches in height, it would be incredibly easy to lift him completely off the ground. 

“Gavin?” Connor gave his hand a little tug.

Shit, he was still holding Connor’s hand. 

Dropping it like it was on fire, he stepped back, somehow managing to catch his heel on the bottom stair and stumble. Connor reached out to help him, but Gavin quickly sidestepped out of his way and regained his balance.

“Um, right… We’ll start in the kitchen,” he said, awkward as fuck, the heat absolutely in his face now. He pointed his thumb through to the living room. “I need another coffee anyway, and then we can take your stuff upstairs. You can stay in the spare room. Sorry about the mess.” Stop. Fucking. Talking.

He motioned for Connor to follow him, trying to ignore the tingling in his hand, the unwanted hammering in his chest and the ghost of warm, perfectly soft skin against his face.

Fuck, this couldn’t be over fast enough.

*

Inside was even more curious than outside. 

The living room was a decent size, with cream walls, a charcoal grey fabric couch that faced a large television on a black stand (a games console and media box tucked in the slim shelves underneath) and a black coffee table in between the two with a fluffy cream rug underneath it. 

There was a large bookcase, filled with well-read paperbacks, against the far wall, next to a black single chair, and an immense grey cat tree in the corner. Cream wooden floors covered the entire area, leading into the kitchen. 

He didn’t understand Gavin’s apology for the mess.

Everything was immaculate.

“This is not how I imagined you would live,” said Connor slowly. He wasn’t trying to offend him. He was simply taken aback.

Gavin rubbed a hand against his sore shoulder. “Got lucky. This place is next to two main roads, furthest from the school, pretty small for the area… The old guy who owned this before me died and the family wanted a quick sale. Had to do a bit of work to it but…” He shrugged.

Involuntarily, Connor accessed the pictures available online from the home’s previous occupant. The difference was stark. 

“You’ve done a very good job,” praised Connor. It was impressive. Gavin clearly took pride in his home.

The detective didn’t say anything but Connor spotted a slight twitch in his lips.

Through the living room, there was a small arch leading to the kitchen. Counters on the right and a table and chairs against the wall on the left, there was plenty of walking space in the middle.

“This was the main reason I went for the place…” he said, opening the back door at the end of the kitchen.

Gavin wandered barefoot down a few steps into the large back garden, with neatly cut grass, enclosed by high shrubbery. It was evident he took care of the outside area. Connor stood at the door.

Suddenly, the reason why the detective had tanned so well, despite the fact he rarely took off his jacket at work, became clear.

Other than the young elm tree towards the right, the garden was a suntrap. He could easily imagine Gavin out here, working in the garden under the hot sun.

“Okay, upstairs. You can dump your bag.”

Gavin impatiently shoved him back through the kitchen and living room to the stairs, briefly pointing at a bathroom on the right of them before leading them upwards.

He quickly moved them past his own bedroom, much to Connor’s disappointment. He wanted to see if that room was as spotless as the rest of the house. He showed him the second bathroom before opening up the door of the spare bedroom.

“You can sleep here. Or… whatever it is that you do.”

“I enter stasis,” said Connor, casting his eyes over the room. "It's like sleeping, in a sense.

It was decorated similarly to the rest of the house. Cream wooden floors with bright walls. There was a single bed with dark blue sheets against the wall and a set of weights had been pushed to the corner. To the left of the door, there was a desk with a thin notebook computer and a small bundle of paper files, where Gavin must work when he was away from the precinct.

The only thing out of place was a small purple pebble in the middle of the floor. 

Picking up the flat stone, he flicked it high into the air and caught it mid-drop before tucking it into his pocket. “This will be perfect, Gavin. Thank you.”

“Didn’t have a choice, remember?” he commented lightly, but he was looking around the room, his heartrate slightly elevated. “Listen, I know you’ve just arrived but this is usually the time I go out for a run…”

“You’re uncomfortable,” Connor noticed. Even if it wasn’t obvious by his behaviour, he could tell from his body’s vitals that he wasn’t relaxed. 

Gavin sighed heavily. “This is fucking weird, having someone else in my space,” he admitted. “I’m gonna need a bit of time to, you know, get used to… you.”

That was a little disappointing. The last thing he wanted to do was to make the detective feel awkward in his own home. “Why don’t I take a look at your ribs and work on the bandaging for your gunshot wound?”

That seemed to make Gavin’s heartrate increase even more. He wasn’t doing very well.

“Yeah, okay…” he muttered, rubbing the scar on his nose, the muscles in his face flinching slightly at the pressure.

“Good,” said Connor brightly. 

He was looking forward to finally getting a proper look at the detective’s tattoo.

*

Creating the illusion of a gunshot wound would be easy. Gavin would have the more difficult task of pretending to be affected by it.

As soon as they were in the bathroom, Connor pushed the detective onto the closed toilet seat , kneeling down in front of him.

Placing the first aid kit to the side, Connor tugged at Gavin’s t-shirt.

“Ow! Watch it, barbie!” snapped Gavin, flinching away from him.

Oh. He’d been so eager to see the tattoo properly that he’d forgotten the actual injury beneath the t-shirt.

Being far more delicate, he eased the t-shirt over Gavin’s arms and head, before kneeling back in front of him.

His LED spun red, several warnings flashing in his vision. The tattoo fell from his priority list.

The bruising was far more extensive than Connor had seen from below the window and Gavin had been purposefully underplaying it.

Deep purple and blue covered his chest and left shoulder in patches, darker beneath his arm, as if someone had kicked him or stamped their foot down on him repeatedly. 

Reaching out, Connor’s fingers traced the worst of the bruising, travelling down the detective’s ribcage, feeling for any breakages. Gavin inhaled sharply at the contact, the muscles of his stomach and chest tightening. 

Whoever had done this had meant to cause severe damage. Gavin was incredibly lucky he didn’t have a broken rib or a punctured lung.

A thousand scenarios ran through his head but only a few made even the slightest bit of sense. 

Judging by the size of the injuries, this had been caused by one man, with thick fists and size ten shoes.

Gavin had said this happened during his visit with the vice detectives. One way he could have become injured _during_ the meeting is if all detectives were incapacitated and a criminal had attacked Gavin.

_//Highly improbable scenario_

No. 

The more probable scenario was that a vice detective had attacked Gavin and the other detectives had either been absent or distracted.

A more horrifying scenario, and yet the most probable by far, was that the other detectives were present and had simply not intervened. 

There were no cuts or bruises on Gavin’s hands.

_//Gavin did not fight back_

Thirium pounded through his body. 

“Who did this?”

Gavin blinked and pulled away from him. “Doesn’t fucking matter,” he muttered.

“It does.” He inhaled deeply to cool his overheating systems. 

There were no cuts or bruises on Gavin’s forearms.

_//Gavin was unable to protect his face_

“Nope, just bandage me up so we can get some fresh air.”

Connor pulled some bandages and tape from the first aid box, busying himself with creating the appearance of a wound on either side of his left shoulder.

Protecting his face would have been an automatic reaction for Gavin. The only reasons he would have been unable to do so was if he was being held back or if he wasn’t expecting the attack.

Eyeing Gavin’s upper arms, there was no bruising to suggest he had been forcibly held.

_//Gavin had not expected to be hit_

“You didn’t fight back,” he stated, pushing the tape down too hard on the bruised shoulder.

Gavin hissed. “Shit! What the fuck, robodoc?!”

A strange pulse shot through his system. “Were the other detectives present when this happened? You met with three of them, correct?" 

Three detectives. 

Gavin had been alone. 

Outnumbered.

“Fuck off, dipshit. Just… leave it alone.” Gavin snatched his t-shirt from the floor, trying in vain to pull it over his head without being able to lift his left arm.

Connor wanted to push, the nerves in his chassis were prickling and thirium rushed through his system. He was… angry.

But as desperate as he was to find out more, Gavin was becoming stressed. 

Pushing at this point wouldn’t aid in their relationship. It would most likely destroy the tiny bit of harmony they’d managed to build over the last few days, as tenuous as it was.

He pressed his lips together, reaching out to stop Gavin from pulling on the t-shirt the rest of the way. He lightly pulled the t-shirt out of his grip, placing it back on the floor.

Swallowing, Gavin stared down at him, grey eyes wide and heartrate through the roof. 

“I’m sorry,” said Connor, sincerely, gently pressing his fingers against the spot he’d hurt. “There are no breakages, the pain should reduce quickly and the bruising will disappear in a few weeks. We should treat it with ice too, in the meantime.” He picked up the bandages again. “Let me finish this, then we can go outside.”

“You have ten minutes,” huffed Gavin, digging his nails into his fidgety knees. “Then I need to get the fuck out of here.”

_//Gavin is restless in uncomfortable situations_

_//Gavin did not fight back_

**_//Gavin will not be alone with the detectives again_**

*

**//Gavin Reed *Priority Level Increased*//**

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: leave me alone  
> Also Gavin: touch me again
> 
> ;)
> 
> Let's go meet some neighbours! :)
> 
> ❤ j.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor looked down, fingers going to the area of his t-shirt where his serial number would have been had he still been wearing the jacket. His LED spun an uncomfortable yellow. “I’m not their property. They created me, but I don’t belong to them. Not anymore.”
> 
>  _Sensitive subject._
> 
> One Gavin understood wholeheartedly.
> 
> “Of course you fucking don’t, dipshit,” growled Gavin. He stopped in his stride, catching hold of Connor’s hand and turning the android around to face him. “You don’t belong to anyone. No one does. Don’t let anybody tell you anything different, you got that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These guys...

Chapter 6

_Fucking stupid android and his stupid fucking concern. Stupid fucking-_

“I did apologise, Gavin…”

“Yeah,” he sulked. “You fucking did apologise. For pushing your fingers into my goddamn bruise…”

They were finally outside and as irritated as Gavin felt, at least he could breathe again. The streets were quiet this early in the morning. They passed by a few bungalows, curtains still closed, occupants probably just waking up. Gavin had never been a late sleeper, not unless he’d had a very late night. Six hours sleep seemed to do the trick with him.

“It was an accident,” said Connor lightly, looking up into the bright sky.

Not a cloud in sight. Except the metaphorical one close to bursting over Gavin’s head. 

“You don’t do anything by accident, barbie,” he pointed a finger at the android.

“I swear to you, I didn’t do it intentionally. I was overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed… sure. “Why?”

A purple stone twirled between Connor’s fingers. “You suffered a serious injury at the hands of a fellow detective. I’m your partner. You shouldn’t have been alone.”

“No… Connor, shit,” he started, rubbing his hand over his face. The android was actually feeling guilty. “You didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t either. That fucking prick just… This isn’t your fault.” Gavin kept his personal life to himself, nobody could have known that the absolute _fuckwit_ of a detective would sucker punch him, and then some.

“I don’t accept that,” said Connor, throwing the stone in the air and catching it without looking. 

Show off.

“Oi, Connor,” Gavin said, flicking the back of the android’s neck. “Look at me. I’m fine. Still standing.”

“That's not the point, and you know it.” Connor glared at him, rubbing his neck. Huh. “You were very lucky.”

“Yeah,” snorted Gavin. “I feel pretty lucky.” 

He rolled his sore shoulder and stretched out his free arm. All he wanted to do was run but there was no way his battered body could handle that right now. He didn’t know what to do with all the pent-up energy. 

The sun was beating down, a soft breeze shaking the leaves in the garden trees. He inhaled deeply. Even if he couldn’t run, it felt great to be outside. 

The last hour had been suffocating and somehow… fucking intoxicating. 

He definitely had a problem. A problem in the form of a lightweight, soft-faced, fucking _handsy_ android who had no concept of personal space.

He finally understood why Anderson had invited him into his home after only a week of knowing him. His attention was infectious. _He_ was infectious.

And he genuinely gave a shit. 

That was a fucking rare quality, especially in Gavin's experience.

Seeing how furious he’d become at Gavin’s injuries was… ugh, it was sweet. Terrifying. Absolutely fucking terrifying. But really fucking nice. 

Definitely a problem.

Because Connor was an android. One he’d held a gun to several times. One he had hit, shoving his fingers into his LED. One he had only called by his actual name a handful of times. One he wanted to strangle for his insatiable curiosity.

It had only been a few hours. A few days. 

_A few months…,_ his mind offered unhelpfully. 

Gavin didn't deserve his fucking kindness. He certainly hadn't earned it.

“I sometimes wish humans had an LED.” Connor was staring at him. “I never know whether you are thinking deeply or simply staring into space.”

Back to reality. “I don’t know why you bothered keeping yours,” he said. It was something he’d wondered for a while. “Why didn’t you get rid of it when you ditched the creepy Cyberlife jacket?”

“You thought the jacket was creepy?” asked Connor, with a little chuckle.

“Yeah, kinda,” he answered honestly. “Some kids have parents who write their names inside their clothes, you had the opposite. Your ‘parents’ wrote their name and a serial number on you, like you were their property.”

Connor looked down, fingers going to the area of his t-shirt where his serial number would have been had he still been wearing the jacket. His LED spun an uncomfortable yellow. “I’m not their property. They created me, but I don’t belong to them. Not anymore.”

 _Sensitive subject._

One Gavin understood wholeheartedly.

“Of course you fucking don’t, dipshit,” growled Gavin. He stopped in his stride, catching hold of Connor’s hand and turning the android around to face him. “You don’t belong to anyone. No one does. Don’t let anybody tell you anything different, you got that?”

He automatically ran his thumb over Connor’s soft skin, because he couldn’t fucking help himself when the android looked like that.

Connor’s eyes darted to their joined hands, his LED flickering back to blue and… brightening. His eyes flashed back up and he smiled. “Got it.”

_Problem._

Gavin dropped his hand, taking a small step back. “Um, good.” He started walking again. “You know, until you told me they were going to kill you if you didn’t find Jericho, I always thought you were the golden child. Their pride and joy. Apple of their fucking eye.”

“Not exactly,” Connor shook his head, playing with the stone again. “I was their prototype and they invested a lot in me, but I was only one in a long line of replacements.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I was killed, my memory would simply be uploaded into a new body. The mission would continue, as if I’d never left.”

That was fucking cold. 

“If your memory was uploaded, would you still be you?”

“I don’t know,” Connor answered honestly. “I won’t be able to find out now.”

“You won’t fucking need to. I’m not having you die on my watch,” promised Gavin, although it sounded more like a threat of protection rather than a promise. 

Connor’s lips raised and that LED brightened again. “Thank you, Gavin. I’ll do my best to keep you alive too.”

An involuntary chuckle left Gavin’s throat. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, prick.”

“And you were doing so well,” mumbled Connor, rolling his eyes.

Gavin actually laughed then, and he playfully punched Connor’s arm. “Fuck off.”

_Problem._

When he looked at Connor again, he found the android staring at him, LED burning blue. He suddenly felt as if he was being analysed, and there was no way that would end well for Gavin. 

“Morning!”

A mixture of relief and annoyance filled Gavin as a woman in sports gear, jogging with a stroller, interrupted them. 

He knew this was part of the job, but this was his neighbourhood and he’d done a good job avoiding the majority of these people.

At least Connor would stop staring at him like he had two heads…

“Hi! Oh, wow, an android,” the woman greeted them as she came to a stop, checking quickly on the baby, who was sound asleep inside the stroller.

“Good morning,” said Connor pleasantly. 

“I recognise you,” she said to Gavin, bypassing Connor. “I’ve seen you going into the house old George used to live in.”

“Yeah, I bought the place when he passed,” explained Gavin. 

What had Tina said?

_Painfully friendly and welcoming._

“Then it’s lovely to meet you, neighbour!” she wrapped an arm around a startled Gavin, completely ignoring his injuries. “I’m Liz, I live a few houses away from you. I teach the second grade at the local school.”

“Gavin, detective for the DPD,” said Gavin, patting her back uncomfortably before, as politely as he could, pushing her away. “This is my partner, Connor.”

“Oh,” Liz frowned. “Your partner?”

“Connor,” the android repeated, reaching out his hand. She hesitated for a moment before taking it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Are you one of those deviants?”

Connor’s eyes flickered to Gavin. “I am.”

“I haven’t met a deviant!” she exclaimed. “I never know how to tell though. You all look the same. I mean, most of you have the same face, right? I’m afraid my husband doesn’t really get the whole ‘deviant’ thing. He says androids are all well programmed machines and it’s hard to argue with him because... well, you know, technically that’s what you are. Not that you can’t be more! It’s just hard to prove, right? I don’t mean to offend…"

Um… What the fuck?

“That’s okay-”

She reached out and touched Connor's face. “You really do look so real.”

Gavin’s eyes widened in disbelief and he bit back a grin at the indignant look on Connor's face. 

“I would certainly hope so,” said Connor, giving an awkward half-smile (that Gavin remembered being on the receiving end of more than once before) and slowly removing her hand from his face. “I’m sure we’ve taken up too much of your time already.” He stepped away from her.

“Not at all! It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and to finally know who moved in to that lovely little place. Good to know a police officer is in the area too!”

“I’m a detective. Actually, we both are-” started Gavin, but she kept on fucking going.

“I’m having a little gathering tomorrow, for my girls’ birthday. They’ll be turning four. How time flies! A few of the neighbours will be joining us, it would be great if you could come along. I know they would love to meet you.” She smiled at them eagerly.

“That’s very kind of you. We'd love to join you,” answered Connor. “Wouldn’t we, Gavin?”

How the fuck did they manage that?

“Of course,” he attempted a smile, hoping his wasn’t as terrible as Connor’s had been.

“Perfect! I’ll let my husband know you’ll be coming. He’s a bit funny with the 'androids being alive' thing, I hope you don’t take him personally,” she shook her head as if the notion of that was ridiculous. “It starts at three at the house covered in balloons, you won’t miss it! Bye for now!” 

She jogged on, stroller in hand. How her baby was still asleep with all that screeching was beyond Gavin.

“Will I call Fowler and tell him he can go fuck himself?” Gavin asked, seriously, as soon as she was out of earshot. “I’m telling you, I’ll do that before we step foot inside that woman’s house.”

Connor laughed softly, and Gavin’s heart skipped a beat knowing that he caused that sound.

“That is tempting,” he said, rubbing his hand against his cheek with a grimace, as if trying to scrub the feeling of the woman’s fingers off of him.

He hadn’t done that when Gavin had touched his hand, had he?

“She was very unpleasant,” continued Connor, “but her husband sounds like he might be of interest to us.”

Gavin blinked. “You think he could be our guy?”

“One of a dozen possibilities, no doubt,” he nodded. “Though, intolerance towards androids is not uncommon, we should still check it out. We may come across someone else who fits our description.”

Yeah, he was right. Couldn’t really pass up that kind of opportunity.

“So, do you get that a lot?” Gavin asked curiously. “People talking down to you?”

Connor raised his eyebrows at him.

“Hey, you give as good as you get with me, dipshit,” Gavin pointed out with a smirk. 

“Not as much anymore. A few people at the precinct have a problem with me.” He shrugged, flicking the stone in the air. “I don’t react to it.”

“Why the fuck not?” 

“What would be the point? Their minds won’t change and I’d still have to work with them. It’s better that I let them say what they have to say, then leave. It doesn’t harm me.”

If Gavin couldn’t tell that was bullshit by words alone, the mood light spinning yellow on the android’s temple was a dead giveaway.

“Who’s giving you shit, Connor?”

“Who hit you, Gavin?” the android quickly retorted, brown eyes flashing challengingly.

Gavin pressed his lips together. Clever little shit.

Connor tilted his head, looking at the stone in his hand. “Apparently, they have this bet-”

“Hey!”

And that would have to be a story for another time.

A kid, ten years old and small for his age, came bounding over to them. With pale brown skin and a head full of dirty blond curls, he had a face of pure innocence and the mouth of a soldier. “What the fuck happened to you?” he exclaimed, eyes widening as he took in Gavin's injuries.

“Language, Sam,” scolded Gavin, and he received an incredulous look from Connor for that one.

“Sorry, Gavin,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. He was studying every inch of his face. “Who did that?”

“Good question,” muttered Connor.

Gavin rolled his eyes.

Sam’s attention flew to the android. “Hi,” he said brightly, not a bit of fear of the stranger in front of him. How many times did he have to tell that kid? “I’m Sam.” He held out his hand.

“Connor,” he smiled, taking it and giving it a shake. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“You too. Do you work with Gavin? Do you live with him? What happened to his face?” he asked in succession, his excitement growing with each question. By the end, he was holding onto Connor’s arm, tugging at it.

“I do work with him. I’m living with him for the time being. And a bad person hurt him,” replied Connor, clearly amused by Sam’s energy.

“What an assface,” the kid scowled. He let go of Connor to grip onto Gavin’s t-shirt instead. “Did you have to shoot him? Did you arrest him?”

“I didn’t have to shoot him. He came quietly, you know the meaning of the word quiet?” snickered Gavin, ruffling Sam’s hair. 

Sam shoved him away with a muffled ‘gerroff’ and flipped him off. 

“Hey, who teaches second grade at your school?” asked Gavin.

“Mrs Miller." Sam pulled a face. “She doesn’t like me. Tells my uncle I’m a ‘troublemaker’. She hasn’t even been my teacher in years...”

That absolute…

“Don’t listen to her,” said Gavin, sternly. “You’re a good fucking kid.”

“Language, Gavin,” smirked Connor.

“Yeah, language,” copied the kid, moving to stand next to the android, arms folded, grinning gleefully. 

Unbelievable. 

“Right, you,” he pointed at Sam. “Off to school. And you,” he pointed at Connor. “Enough of your lip.”

Sam giggled lightly, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Have a fun day, Sam,” Connor said, the smile he gave this time absolutely genuine.

“You too,” he shouted as he dashed off. “Bye Gavin! Bye Connor!”

They watched him leave, just as fast as he'd arrived.

“There goes the only person in this fucking place I can stand.”

“Are you including me in that?” 

“Absolutely,” scoffed Gavin, his face quickly breaking out into a grin. 

Connor laughed and, just like before, Gavin’s heart fucking fluttered. “We really should head back and put some ice on your face.” He reached out and stroked Gavin’s cheek lightly, scrutinising it. “I promise I’ll try to be gentle this time.”

Gavin swallowed.

Yup. Fucking _problem._

Fucking... whatever.

*

The walk back to Gavin’s house was quiet but Connor’s mind buzzed with activity. 

He could still feel the woman’s hand against his face, no matter how much he tried to disguise the contact with his own.

_//Negative interaction recorded_

_’You really do look so real.’ ___

Gavin had only just managed to contain himself. It was comforting to find him surprised at the treatment. As if it was something unusual.

Then there was the excitable little boy and his familiarity with Gavin.

Puzzle pieces fitting together but the picture wasn’t getting clearer.

Gavin’s hand on his…

No, not his hand on his. The _movement_ of Gavin’s hand while it held his own.

Soft. Comforting. Kind.

Everything he hadn’t expected from a man like Gavin.

It didn’t make sense.

As soon as they were inside, Gavin moved through the house and opened up the back door to let in some fresh air. Gizmo chirped in surprise at being disturbed from his sleep on the top step.

Gavin’s bruises needed to be taken care of and Connor didn’t trust the man to take care of it himself. Regardless of the excellent condition he kept his body in, he didn’t seem interested in nursing the injury. 

Perhaps he felt he deserved it.

Something about that thought didn't sit right with Connor.

Picking up a clean dishtowel from the kitchen counter, he took it to the fridge-freezer, opening the lower half and finding several bags of frozen vegetables. Very healthy. Connor approved.

A deep tray filled with ice sat in the lower drawer, and Connor began collecting some... 

Oh. 

_//New sensation_

_//Data saved**_

It was wildly different to the heat from the coffee cup. 

He held the ice in his hands, studying the effects intently, feeling the nerves in his hands raise and tighten involuntarily the longer he held them, before a quiet cough shook him from his thoughts. 

_Shit._

“Shall we?” Connor said, quickly gathering enough cubes to fill the centre of the towel and wrapping them up. He sped to the couch, without closing the freezer. 

How could he? His hands had become stiff and his palms were patched dusky blue.

It was stupid of him to do this while Gavin was there. Was he trying to get caught?

No, of course not, but he was surprised at how comfortable he felt, letting himself test his skin's sensitivity without a second thought to Gavin’s presence in the room.

“Yup,” said the detective, and Connor heard the freezer close.

Sitting down, he tried to remain inconspicuous, holding the towel in one hand, opening and closing the other, trying to get full movement back in his fingers again, his back to Gavin.

_//Proximity-_

He felt a swift tug on his collar and something freezing cold glide down his back.

_//New sensation: Negative_

“Gavin!” He shot up, shaking his t-shirt until a cube of ice skidded across the floor, glaring at the detective as the prickling sensation on his back began to dull.

But the man was doubled over, cackling mercilessly. “I fucking knew it! I knew you could feel that shit!”

_//Begin preconstruction-*END_

There was no need for that just yet.

“Well, aren’t you a clever human?” Connor huffed, petulantly. 

He’d managed to get away with it for over a week living with Hank. He hadn’t even spent half a day with Gavin. He obviously hadn't been careful enough, and Hank didn't pay half as much attention to him as Gavin seemed to.

“I like to think so,” winked Gavin. “I’m a fucking detective, dipshit. You really thought you could get away with this? I knew something was up with you when you kept weirdly stroking your beer at the bar.”

“You seem to be keeping an awfully close eye on me these days, detective,” Connor snapped, although immediately regretting going with that particular response prompt. 

He hadn’t meant the insinuation, although now he had said it out loud…

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” choked Gavin, swallowing thickly. The tension had returned, his heart rate increasing. 

“I mean…” 

_//Negative response likely – Select new route?_

“I mean, you best keep a much closer eye on me, detective.” A mischievous smile darkened Connor’s face. “You are going to regret this.”

Gavin’s face fell.

“No,” said the detective, quickly. “Don’t give me that look, Connor, I’ve seen the shit you pull when you look like that!”

“Good, then you’ll have some idea of what to expect,” smirked Connor, picking up the ice cube from the floor. He thrust the ice-filled towel at Gavin and threw the single ice cube into the sink. “The floor is wet. You should clean it. I’ll be outside with the friendlier occupant of this house.”

“You little…” started Gavin, but Connor strode out the backdoor, moving to the middle of the garden. Gizmo swiftly jumped to his feet and followed him.

*

At least he knew the android could feel temperature. That was worth whatever Connor was planning for him.

Yeah, not even Gavin believed that bullshit.

_You seem to be keeping an awfully close eye on me these days…_

Gavin also seemed to keep forgetting that Connor was a fucking detective too. 

But there was something niggling at the back of Gavin’s mind. Something about the bar that he was forgetting.

Then it hit him like a punch to the face. It wasn't just fucking temperature.

The prod to the side, the flick to the neck. He had _reacted._

What had Connor said when they had first met?

_Androids can't feel pain._

“No fucking way…” he whispered as he dumped the towel and ice in the sink, following Connor outside.

The android was lying on the grass in the middle of the garden, eyes closed, arm under his head, cat purring happily stretched out on his chest, t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of pale skin... 

_Fuck it._

Gavin slumped down next to him, stretching out his body on the grass, before turning on his side to face the, once again, pissed off android.

“Can I help you, detective?” Connor said, without opening his eyes. He sounded bored, or maybe huffy. Probably huffy.

Hmm. ‘Detective’ again. “Shouldn’t you be planning my demise?”

“I’ve already done that,” shrugged Connor. “I had to narrow it down from several options. It turns out you are far too easy.”

Gavin snorted. “Never been called 'easy' before, barbie.”

“People don’t usually call me ‘barbie’ either, but here we are. Did you want something?”

This guy was going to be the death of him. Acting like nothing had changed, when something clearly had. 

“Just wanted to check,” Gavin started slowly, running his fingers through his hair, before resting his head on his bent elbow. “Is there anything else you want to share with me?”

“No.” 

Oh, come on, he had to be smarter than that. He’d conducted dozens of interrogations and this was how he behaved on the other side of it?

Part of Gavin wondered if Connor actually wanted to be found out now. 

“Fine,” shrugged Gavin, lying on his back to stare at the clear blue sky. He waited for a few moments before he moved again. 

If the android could sense how fast a heart was beating, there was no doubt in Gavin’s mind that he would know how close he was getting to him. Gavin had the upper hand before; the android had been distracted by the ice in his hands.

No distraction this time. If Connor didn't stop him, it was on purpose. It had to be.

Gavin was going to test two theories at once.

He reached over, tucking his finger and thumb under Connor’s neck and nipping him full force. 

“Fuck!” 

Gizmo darted away as Connor turned on his side and punched Gavin hard in his uninjured shoulder. 

"Ow!"

It hurt like a bitch but Gavin didn't really give a shit because boom! Two theories tested, two correct. He deserved a fucking promotion.

Connor, still clearly annoyed, shoved at the sore part of Gavin's ribs.

“Don’t be a dick about it, tinman!” laughed Gavin, grabbing Connor’s forearm with the hand that was in the sling and holding it firmly to the centre of his chest.

“How long has this been a thing?” Gavin asked, biting his lip to control his laughing fit. He loved seeing Connor so irate. 

He was half expecting another hit, but he was surprised to find that Connor didn't even try to break free of his hold.

"Not long,” he answered, evasively.

“Fair enough,” accepted Gavin, with a quick roll of his eyes. “And what exactly is this?”

Connor's tight eyes darted to Gavin’s. 

He suddenly realised how ridiculously fucking close they were. Gavin could see every tiny freckle on his face. Was this the closest they’d been to each other? No, they’d been closer when they were fighting, when he’d shot at him, fuck, when he’d almost-

“The latest upgrade available,” Connor finally answered, eyes softening, letting his arm rest fully against Gavin’s chest, lying his hand between his shoulder and neck. 

Gavin’s heart thudded but then, strangely, he felt himself relax under the touch. He gripped Connor's arm a little tighter, urging him on.

“A nerve-lattice,” Connor continued, with a sigh. “Basically, it is a huge series of thin wires, barely visible, covering my chassis, attached to my core processors. When my skin is active, the nerve-lattice is raised. I can feel things in a similar way to you now.”

Holy shit, that was incredible.

But maybe not the smartest move in their line of work. “You want to feel the shit we do? Getting stabbed, shot?”

“I understand that there could be a lot of pain that comes with this,” he said slowly, looking away. “But there is also pleasure, and a multitude of sensations in between. I haven’t been able to experience much since having the lattice installed. Perhaps... mainly heat. I've found that to be a negative experience.”

“Hold up,” said Gavin, in disbelief. “Heat is only painful when you’re touching things you shouldn’t.”

Connor frowned.

Super-computer mind and he didn’t know the kind of thing humans learned as fucking toddlers. A kid only put their hand on a stove once before they remember never to do it again. There was something to be said for experience.

“Heat isn’t always bad. You’re enjoying the sun, right?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head towards the sky thoughtfully.

"See?" said Gavin smugly. “And what about this?” 

He pressed Connor's forearm closer against his chest and, before his brain knew what he was doing, he let his fingers run slowly from his wrist to his elbow, as much as the sling would allow. Connor’s hand tightened a little against his shoulder, eyes closing for a moment before looking back up at the sky.

Then Gavin's mind caught up, and he realised what the fuck had just happened.

Shit.

Holy fucking shit.

Connor’s arm was pressed against his chest. 

Gavin was holding it there. 

Gavin wasn’t letting go. (Connor wasn’t pulling away. _(Fuck off, brain.)_ )

But then…

 _The hand on his back, the soft touches on his face, those fingers pressed against his chest…_

Gavin had wanted them all. He wanted fucking more.

The stupid android glancing at the sky with those beautiful brown eyes, dark hair messed up against the grass…

Gavin wasn’t fucking touch-starved. Well, he absolutely was, but that wasn’t the fucking _problem._

The handsy android wasn’t the fucking _problem_.

Connor’s attention flickered back to him. “You’re… very warm.”

That wasn’t good or bad. 

Fuck, was Gavin projecting?

He let go of Connor’s arm and turned onto his back, letting his head lie against the grass with his good arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 

He was being fucking ridiculous. 

No, he wasn’t.

Yes, he fucking was.

No. Fuck, no...

The problem…

_He was fucking flirting with the android._

Fuck, when had this even started?

He didn't deserve a promotion. He was a fucking idiot. Fowler should just take his badge and fucking burn it.

Fortunately, his cat chose that moment to cause a distraction by prodding a paw at his sore shoulder, then, ignoring Gavin’s hiss of pain, he slowly clambered onto him and snuggled onto his chest.

*

Connor frowned at his forearm and the strange, cold sensation he felt at the sudden lack of contact. His processors fired, flooding his vision.

_//Negative feedback received_  
_//Searching for solution… Solution found_  
_//Initiate Contact**_  
_//Analysis of possible responses_  
_//Positivenegativepositivenegativepositivenegative_  
_//Additional data required_

_//Backup Memory Review_

_'And what about this?'_

The sensation of Gavin’s hand tightening ever so slightly against his forearm, his pads of his fingers gently caressing his skin. Fiery grey eyes challenging, daring him to pull away. He couldn’t.

_//Heartrate: Data Unavailable_

_//Pupil Dilation: Data Unavailable_

Of course. He’d been too captivated by his defiant expression, the movement of his muscles, the slight shift of his head against his arm, resting on the grass, the way his hair moved in the breeze, his body leaning into Connor’s…

The groan as he pulled away.

_//Initiate contact**_

He reached out to take the detective’s arm in his hand but Gizmo got there first, prodding at Gavin’s shoulder and then hopping up onto his chest.

Connor halted, pulling his hand quickly back, staring at it suspiciously. He seemed to be doing that more and more often since getting the new upgrade. The new sensations were clearly interfering with his analytical programming. 

Still, when he glanced back at the detective, the urge immediately resurfaced.

Even though Gavin was clearly in pain, he didn’t budge an inch as the cat roamed until he settled. When he did, Gavin let a moan of relief release from his chest.

Connor blinked, involuntarily saving a backup of that sound to the detective’s database.

_//Initiate conversation**_

“He really loves you,” smiled Connor fondly, trying not to analyse the automatic saves too hard. He reached over to pet the cat on Gavin’s chest. “Where did you find him?”

Gavin’s eyes flashed to him suspiciously. “Are you trying to lure me into a false sense of security?”

Connor didn’t bother looking at him, or replying.

The detective tutted but answered anyway. “Found him in a taped-up box when I was on a case a few years ago. He was a tiny, skinny thing then…”

“I'm glad you took him in. He deserves to be spoiled,” Connor leaned in a little closer, resting his arm on Gavin’s incredibly warm chest, fingers nestled in Gizmo’s fur. 

_//Contact Initiated_

“Yeah,” breathed Gavin.

Connor had to shake that sound from his mind as a jumbled mess of non-conversational prompts entered his vision.

He dismissed every single one of them.

He was a guest in Gavin’s home.

Gavin, who had hated him, who Connor had thought of as nothing but a hindrance.

They were here on a case.

He needed to stay focused.

But the web of nerves coating his body felt differently as his skin flushed where the heat from Gavin’s body touched.

He could feel the steady rising of the detective’s chest as air entered and left his lungs…

_//Increase contact**_

_Shit._

“Wait here,” Connor said, pulling his arm away, ignoring the sudden chill.

Not waiting for a response, he quickly stood and headed for the kitchen to collect a new dishtowel and fresh ice.

The cubes of ice had created a horrible sensation when he’d first held them. Knowing they would soon be on Gavin’s skin changed how they felt somehow. 

Thirium moved through him faster. He barely registered the cold.

No. That didn’t make sense.

None of this made sense.

He brought the ice outside, where Gavin was still lying on his back, Gizmo stretched out over his chest, rubbing his head against Gavin’s jaw.

_//Backup Image Saved**_

Connor walked up to the two, watching them for a moment, enjoying the rare peacefulness on the detective’s face.

He carefully sat down, cross-legged, less than an inch from Gavin’s chest. “This will be cold, but I need you to relax.”

Gavin jumped a little, staring up at him. “Easy for you to say…”

With a quick wave, Gizmo darted away, instead settling himself in the shade of the tiny elm tree to the right.

“Take off your shirt,” said Connor softly, glancing around the enclosed space. No houses overlooked the garden and unless someone was eight-feet tall, there was no way they would be seen. No need for pretend wounds.

“So demanding,” chuckled Gavin, a little nervously, but he leaned up and awkwardly removed his sling and then his t-shirt.

Finally, Connor's analytics kicked back in and he immediately registered Gavin’s quickened heart rate. It almost matched the pace of the thirium running through his bio-components.

“Just lie down, detective,” he said, pressing lightly on his bruised shoulder and pushing him back onto the grass.

Gavin hissed. “It’s Gavin, you little fucking…”

His anger diminished as soon as Connor pressed the ice onto his bare chest. Instead, he gave out a low, guttural moan. “Fuck, Con, that feels good.”

Connor's thirium pump sped up and his LED glowed a bright blue as he instructed an internal command.

_//Backup Audio Saved**_

_//Backup Image Saved**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fowler: How's the case developing?  
> Gavin: Case?  
> Connor: What case?
> 
> ❤ j.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, something hit his back. Ice cold water poured over his body. He heaved in air, processors adjusting to the change in temperature.
> 
> He spun on his heel, quickly analysing the situation. 
> 
> Gavin stood at the back door, still dressed in his shorts and black tank, zip-up gone and bare arms on show, a basin at his feet filled with the same balloons, a wide, innocent smile on his face. 
> 
> The understanding was instantaneous.
> 
> He’d chosen swift revenge.
> 
> Connor grinned, his mind reeling in anticipation.
> 
> So, Gavin was rising to the challenge.
> 
> Connor bent down, lifting one of the water-filled balloons in his hands. “Gavin, I recommend you stand away from the door. You’re about to be soaked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor plots, Gavin sulks.
> 
> And who doesn't love a water balloon fight to relieve some tension... :)

Chapter 7

“Hank, everything is okay,” Connor promised. “We’re going to a neighbourhood event tomorrow. Hopefully we can get a read on some of the neighbours, see if we can find something.”

The man had become a little protective of Connor since they’d been living together. It made him happy to know that he was high on Hank’s list of priorities too.

“I don’t give a shit about the case, Con,” said the gruff voice on the other end of the phone. 

Connor bit his lip as he remembered how Gavin had used the nickname hours before.

“That isn't very professional, _lieutenant_ ,” he scolded, shaking off the thoughts.

“Professional... you should meet some of these damn rookies,” scoffed Hank. “How’s the prick handling you in his space?”

Connor glanced at the stairs, keeping his voice quiet as he moved past them, sliding silently into the bathroom. “He’s handling it well...”

The truth was, Connor hadn’t seen the detective in several hours. He’d made himself scarce after Connor had iced his shoulder and face. Wanted some alone time. Understandable.

“Yeah, I’m sure he fuckin' is,” Hank grumbled. “And how are you doing?”

“It hasn’t even been a full day, Hank.” Connor eyed the inside of the bathroom, looking for a target.

“That doesn’t answer my question. If he’s messing with you, you tell me right now and I’ll be over there so quickly...”

Maybe not intentionally messing with him, but Gavin had definitely gotten into his head.

It was... odd.

“He’s not so bad,” started Connor, but quickly selected a new route. It would sound far too strange to Hank. “A bit grumpy, but then, so are you.” 

Hank gave a disgruntled chuckle.

“Pfft, fine,” he conceded. “You _sound_ alright, at least. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Reed will talk me through some profiles he received from the detectives. We’ll keep note of anyone that ticks most boxes and try to work out a way into their homes. It’s not the most intricate plan, but we don’t have much to work with.”

“I hear you. Just… stay safe. These people are fuckin’ demons with sweet smiles, Con. Don’t let your guard down.”

“You sound like Reed,” smirked Connor, stepping into the empty bath. 

“Never said the arrogant prick didn’t have a brain in his head.”

Connor heard tapping come through the receiver.

“It’s late, Hank. Shouldn’t you be finished for the evening?” said Connor, studying the shower.

“Sending an email then I’m heading home. These rookies need some toughening up, let me tell you. Don’t worry though. I’ll take Sumo for a walk and eat a salad for dinner.”

The mocking tone was clear.

“That better be true, lieutenant.”

“Nothing you can do about it from there anyway,” Hank said, smugly. “Safe from your little games.”

_Hank might be safe, but Gavin certainly wasn’t._

“Maybe not, but I have a long memory and plenty of time here to think of something.”

“Then I hope Reed keeps you distracted,” he retorted.

Hmm. He wanted to tell Hank that the detective seemed to be distracting him plenty, but he didn’t want him to worry more than he already was.

Also, Connor didn’t even know why he was so distracted by the man.

“You’re not driving him crazy with the mind tricks, are you?” asked Hank suspiciously.

Connor froze, his hand hovering over the shower unit. “No,” he lied.

“For fuck sake, Con,” he laughed. “I actually feel sorry for the man.” 

“He earned this one, Hank,” he tried to reason.

“Doubt it,” came the chuckle on the other end.

Connor shrugged and interfaced with the unit.

_//Interface: Complete_  
_//Set temperature: Free_  
_//Set timer: Five-minute delay_  
_//Set temperature post five-minute delay: Forty-degrees Fahrenheit_  
_//Set temperature: Locked_

Satisfied, he climbed out of the bath and left the bathroom, sneaking quietly past the stairs.

“Finish your email and go home. Take Sumo out and eat something healthy. If you don’t, I will find a way to correct the damage. Perhaps we could try jogging?”

Hank scoffed. “That’s enough of the threats. You call if there’s any trouble. Remember what I said, stay safe.”

“You too. Don’t be so hard on the rookies. You were one of them once.”

“Don’t fuckin’ remind me. Night, Con.”

“Good night, Hank.”

Hank hung up. 

Now all Connor had to do was to wait until the detective went to sleep so he could get to the bathroom upstairs. He picked a paperback from the bookcase and settled onto the couch.

*

Gavin paced his bedroom, Gizmo's eyes following him backwards and forwards.

He couldn’t think of anything else but the stupid android down the stairs. Probably reading his books. 

He wondered which ones he would choose. He had a fairly extensive collection of science fiction novels, as well as a collection of gay fiction, fantasy and horror. 

He felt his lips twitch as he thought of Connor, lying on his couch, reading the gay teen-fiction he’d managed to get his hands on in a few of the homes he had lived in as a kid.

He bit back a snicker. 

Fuck, it was a strange experience. 

Sure, he’d had Tina and Chris over a few times. Tina, more than Chris, since she was a force of fucking nature and would push her way into the biggest recluse’s life. 

Even she had only stayed over once or twice, commandeering the spare room after a few too many beers.

This was entirely different.

Because he’d found himself out.

Every single fucking touch had been swirling about in his mind. 

Connor.

Just Connor.

Everything, Connor.

He’d thought about it long and hard over the half day he’d spent avoiding the android.

And just… Connor.

It was a pretty painful realisation. He thought he’d want nothing more than to get the android out of his house.

Turns out that was bullshit. 

He wanted him here. He wanted him close and as far away as fucking possible. 

He literally tried to kill him less than a year ago. 

And Gavin was fucking arrogant enough to suddenly start coming on to him?

What, a good looking guy (who he tried to fucking murder) offers some friendly touches a few too many times and suddenly all is fucking forgiven? He should accept Connor’s kindness as consent to go for it?

Gavin was genuinely disgusted with himself…

He pushed some pillows up against the wall, and sat against them on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees, holding his head.

Connor was a good guy.

Connor was a machine.

He fucking _knew that._

It just didn't seem to matter anymore.

If he compared Connor to that creep Liz… 

He could tell who the real person was then, and it wasn’t the one talking shit in a polite tone, prodding a complete stranger in the face like he was some sort of fucking doll. 

The real person was the one who protected the fourteen-year-old kid, not the one who called her ‘asking for it’.

The real person was the one who, when faced with someone who would murder him without a second thought, simply incapacitated him, instead of killing him, and then apologised to him not even a month later…

What was Gavin? How did he compare to Connor?

Was he any better than Liz?

Fuck, Connor showed more humanity than most of the people he knew. More humanity than could ever have been programmed.

He wanted to go back downstairs. He wanted to sit with Connor, talk to him like he was a living person...

But he couldn’t. 

It wasn’t even an option. 

He couldn’t fucking think clearly.

He needed to get this off his chest.

He found his phone and shot off a message.

gstring: _i have a problem_

tbag: _no waaaay :O_

gstring: _fk off_

tbag: _wtf is the problem?_

gstring: _connor_

babymaker: _…._

tbag: _u wanna kiss him or kill him?_

Gold star to the fucking bitch. Hitting the nail on the head in less than a minute.

gstring: _dunno_

Such a lie.

tbag: _course u fkn do_

He really did.

gstring: _.._

tbag: _u guys need to bang_

Gavin snorted out loud. He'd met this version of Tina before.

gstring: _told su not to give u wine_

tbag: _....._

tbag: _su says go get some_

gstring: _not doin tht_

tbag: _thn why u botherin us_

Good fucking question.

babymaker: _smh not even been a day_

babymaker: _anderson at least lasted a week before he caved_

babymaker: _guy really works fast_

tbag: _hes nice. jst dnt b a dick_

babymaker: _and dont start something you cant finish G_

And weren’t those the fucking wisest words he’d ever heard.

*

Connor kept an eager ear out for the detective waking up. He’d stayed downstairs for his stasis. Five hours. More than enough.

He tried not to let the fact that he'd woken up with his processors replaying their time in the garden concern him too much…

He heard steps shuffling towards the upstairs bathroom. 

Ten thirty. It was late. He must not have slept well.

Connor crept closer to the stairs and waited.

It was worth it. Apparently Gavin enjoyed singing in the shower. Connor happily listened to that incredible voice flow through the house. 

Perhaps he’d forgotten he had company.

It didn’t matter. He was about to be reminded. 

Connor counted down the five minutes with an internal timer.

_Five. Four. Three. Two. One._

“Fuck!”

Connor grinned to himself, satisfied. He moved back to the couch and fell into it, turning on the television with a blink. 

What had the detective said? _It's action films and cartoons in this house._

Cartoons it was.

The bathroom door flew open and Connor could hear the stamp of feet coming down the stairs. 

But they stopped halfway. 

Connor glanced over to see part of the detective’s body, still dripping wet, the hair on his skin raised.

Then, without a word, the man turned on his heel and stomped back up the stairs.

That was strange.

He’d expected anger, rage, a vow of swift revenge. Something.

But there was nothing.

He pushed down the dissatisfaction and turned back to the cartoons.

Half an hour later, the detective appeared again, fully dressed in black jogging shorts, a black tank and red zip up, his hair still drying. His sling sat awkwardly under the hoodie. 

“I’m going out. Might be a while,” he huffed, grabbing his car keys, without even looking at him.

“Okay-”

The door slammed hard and the detective was gone. 

_//Negative reaction recorded_

_Shit._

Maybe he’d gone too far? 

Or maybe he'd forgotten why he was here.

This was a case. Nothing more.

His LED spun yellow and he stared hard at the television, burying his disappointment.

*

Almost two full hours passed before he heard Gavin opening the front door.

“Connor, can you check out something in the back garden?” He still sounded pissed off.

Frowning, Connor placed the book he’d been reading down on the table. “What is it?”

“I thought I saw a cat slip under the gate when I was driving past. Looked distressed. Gizmo’s out front so…”

Another cat? 

Well, at least the detective was still talking to him.

He stood up and went into the kitchen, opening the back door. The air was warm, the grass bright beneath his feet. He listened intently.

No cat, but as he neared the heavy, locked gate, he spotted a pile of multi-coloured balloons next to it. 

They were wabbling...

_Water balloons._

Those were definitely not there before…

_//Proximity warning_

Suddenly, something hit his back. Ice cold water poured over his body. He heaved in air, processors adjusting to the change in temperature.

He spun on his heel, quickly analysing the situation. 

Gavin stood at the back door, still dressed in his shorts and black tank, zip-up gone and bare arms on show, a basin at his feet filled with the same balloons, a wide smirk on his face. 

The understanding was instantaneous.

He’d chosen swift revenge.

Connor grinned, his mind reeling in anticipation.

So, Gavin was rising to the challenge.

Connor bent down, lifting one of the water-filled balloons in his hands. “Gavin, I recommend you stand away from the door. You’re about to be soaked.” 

“Don’t fucking think so, dipshit!” he said quickly, picking up his own basin of balloons in his uninjured arm and making a dash to the small tree at the other end of the garden. 

But Connor was faster. With absolute precision, he aimed the balloon right at the detective’s chest. It burst against him, spraying him with water.

“Oi!” shouted Gavin, throwing himself behind the tree, laughing. It barely shielded him. “You better not be using your fucking weird superpowers!”

_Superpowers? Fair enough._

“You earned that one,” called Connor, speedily switching off all internal analysis and any external sensors that might be an advantage, while purposefully decreasing his physical abilities to mimic a human’s. “Your first hit was what you would call ‘a dick move’, Gavin!”

A balloon flew through the air while Connor was distracted, colliding with the side of his head. 

He was smothered in the ice-cold water.

Not having his proximity sensors certainly changed the experience.

Grabbing a blue balloon, he kept low as he sped across the garden, throwing another, curving it around the tree. 

A yelp filled the air. “How the fuck!”

“Language, Gavin,” teased Connor, dashing back to his pile. “We’re in a residential area!”

“Fuck you!” snickered Gavin. “You better duck!”

Connor did duck, turning himself around and filling his arms with several more balloons. Water blasted into his back. He gasped at the temperature change, the nerves against his chassis rising and flushing his skin. The detective certainly had a good aim. Connor was not about to be outdone. 

“Laugh it up, meatbag!”

Gavin moved himself out from the cover of the tree. “Who you calling-”

A balloon to the unhurt side of his face shut him up. A very effective method. 

Shaking his hair free of water, Gavin glared at him, reaching down slowly into the basin. He picked up his last three balloons, cradling them in his arm. “You’re about to get it, android.”

“This android has a name,” grinned Connor, throwing another balloon at him. 

Connor was slightly off centre, and Gavin avoided it easily. The man cheered, raising a fist into the air, completely missing the next balloon aimed straight for his stomach. 

“Ow! Fucker, watch the ribs!”

“Don’t get distracted, Gavin!”

Gavin recovered quickly, smiling slyly at him. “You’re pretty cocky for someone with one balloon left, bitch.”

Connor glanced at the detective. Three balloons against one. 

_Shit_.

He froze, wanting to dash away but there was nowhere to hide.

In his hesitation, a balloon collided with his stomach, then another to his hip. 

Suddenly, Gavin was running towards him, tackling and knocking him to the grass, planting himself on Connor's waist, effectively pinning him to the ground.

Connor burst into a fit of laughter at the unexpected intrusion. He took his last remaining balloon and burst it over the detective’s head but, at that angle, he only succeeded in soaking himself.

"Shit!" he grinned, rubbing the excess water from his eyes, daring a look upwards.

The detective had his hands in the air, precariously holding the last balloon left in play over Connor’s head. 

“You fucking earned this for messing with my shower, dipshit. Submit,” he said darkly, a devious glint in his eyes. “Or be soaked.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” said Connor playfully but adamantly, squirming under the weight of Gavin’s body. He wouldn’t turn up his physical abilities. That wouldn’t be fair. “Do your worst, human.”

“As you fucking wish, android.” 

The glee in Gavin’s voice was short-lived as Connor wrapped his arm around Gavin’s waist, quickly switching their positions… 

But he wasn't quick enough.

Gavin slammed the last balloon into the back of Connor’s neck.

The nerve endings that were gathered there fired unpleasantly and Connor's arms slipped, dropping the detective onto the grass and falling half over him, swearing as the freezing cold water poured over his back.

The detective’s chest heaved in hysterical laughter, his arms draped apologetically over Connor.

“Gotcha!" he managed to choke out. 

Connor gave an amused sigh, giving in to the relaxed embrace. Without his internal analytics to direct him, there was nothing prompting him to remove himself from Gavin's space. So he simply chose not to.

Plus, compared to the cool breeze, Gavin was _so warm._

"You did get me," drawled Connor, half of his body now flat against the detective's, his forehead pressed against the scruff of his cheek. He reached up and chanced a ruffle of the man’s wet hair. It was still soft, although now it was mixed with some dirt and a few blades of grass. "Well done." 

Gavin didn’t push him away, still delirious with laughter.

“Hold up,” he said at last, his giggling finally subsiding, resting his face against Connor’s head. “Did you miss me on purpose?”

Connor frowned. He moved over Gavin, careful of his injured side, and shook his drenched hair, water flying everywhere. 

“Fuck you, barbie!” Gavin scrunched up his eyes and laughed freely once more, and Connor decided this was his favourite expression on the detective.

“I absolutely did not,” promised Connor, gazing at the thick dark lashes on the detective’s cheeks, before his grey eyes opened to stare back at him suspiciously. “I swear, I turned my external sensors down and internal analytics off so my reaction time was the equivalent to yours. I also moderated my movements so I would match a human’s.”

“Ah-ha,” smirked Gavin bigheadedly, running his hands lazily over Connor’s back then squeezing his hips hard, sending shivers over his skin as his nerve endings reacted to the touch. “Is that the long way of saying that I won?”

Connor rolled his eyes but conceded. “Yes, Gavin. You won.”

“Fucking knew it!” exclaimed Gavin.

Almost impossibly fast, he pulled Connor into him and rolled him over onto the grass. Connor yelped as his body hit the ground. Gavin stared down at him, body on his, leaning on his elbows, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Fucking knew I would defeat you in the end, dipshit.”

“You really are a hero of the human race,” said Connor, sarcastically, his hand automatically going up to stroke Gavin's bruised face. He was breathless above him, his hair dripping over Connor’s forehead.

And then, the smugness seemed to falter. 

Eyes flickered down to Connor’s lips, and Connor was suddenly all too aware of the weight of the detective pushing him down. 

_//Analytics restarted_  
_//Heartrate: Elevated_  
_//Pupil dilation detected_  
_//Increase contact**_  
_//NegativePositiveNegativePositiveNegativePositiveNegativePositiveNegativePositive_

_//Increase contact**_  
_//Additional data required_

_//Increase contact**_

He wasn’t waiting for another chance.

So he leaned up and pressed his lips against Gavin’s. 

Gavin gave a surprised gasp, freezing.

 _//Negat-_

Then an unmistakably lustful noise escaped his throat as he returned the kiss greedily. 

_//Positivepositivepositivepositive_

Gavin pressed him into the grass, wet faces pushing against each other and Connor could sense every flicker of movement, every twitch, the heat from Gavin’s body battling with the cold, wet clothes sticking to his skin.

Connor’s hands came up to grip Gavin’s hair and he received a groan in response, vibrating against Connor’s mouth.

The man’s hair was soaking, water dripping down his face and onto Connor’s until he gave a muffled laugh against the detective, breaking the kiss.

“Gavin," he whispered, their lips still touching. "You need a towel."

The detective chuckled breathlessly, pressing his forehead into Connor’s. “Fuck… Yeah yeah, you’re right.” He leant up, winking at him. “Let’s get cleaned up, loser.” 

Gavin jumped energetically to his feet, grabbing Connor’s hand as he went and pulling him up with little effort. 

Connor quickly studied him.

Tiny bumps raised all over his exposed skin, face flushed, lips reddened, black tank clinging to every muscle of his torso. He was beaming proudly.

“Do you need help getting back in, since you were just destroyed?” 

Connor’s eyebrows shot up. “Absolutely not-”

But despite his light-hearted protest, Gavin took his arm and pulled it over his shoulder, wrapping his sore arm around his waist and tugging him into the house. “Come the fuck on, you broken little toaster.”

“You’re a terrible winner, detective,” mused Connor as he let himself be dragged inside, unable to help the strange affection leaking into his tone. 

“I’m a fucking incredible winner,” he said cheerfully, arms slipping away Connor, shoving him towards the stairs. “Go shower, you’re fucking covered in mud. With your superpowers off, you obviously forgot we have the birthday party in a half hour. Remember the five-minute hot water limit. Prick.”

Gavin sauntered into the bathroom, closing the door, leaving wet footprints behind him.

Connor stared after him, his synthetic nerves buzzing ardently, and he walked up the stairs with the smile still on his face. 

_//Positive reaction recorded_

*

“Dillon Jones. Twenty-two years old. Extensive juvie record, two instances of possession of ice. Vice suspects he was dealing rather than using but there wasn’t enough on him at the time he was picked up.”

Gavin reeled off what he remembered from the meet. It would keep them occupied on the walk to the ‘balloon-covered' house and it was a fucking good distraction to whatever the fuck had happened earlier.

He decided not to think about it and judging by Connor’s silence on the matter, he agreed.

“He’s young,” said Connor, nodding. “At the right age the drug is being targeting at.”

Yup, he’d never been so grateful. Because if Connor even tried to talk about what happened, Gavin’s mind would simply start repeating what it had been for the last half hour between then and now. 

_Connor kissed him._

Connor fucking kissed _him._

__Gavin was almost certain he’d imagined the whole thing._ _

__He cleared his throat. “Then there is Frank Miller. No drug offenses but two assault charges. Spent a few years inside. Nothing in the last ten years.”_ _

__“Miller,” Connor said slowly. “That must be Liz's husband. Young baby, twin girls. Hatred towards androids. We’ll likely meet him today.”_ _

__Gavin thought the options over._ _

__“I say we keep an eye out for Dillon,” he said finally. “If he’s dealing instead of using, he must be getting his supply from somewhere. If we’re lucky, he’s getting it nearby.”_ _

__“Did they mention where the officers picked him up previously?”_ _

__“Club Sand. Both times. I’ve heard of it. Standard night club, mainly for kids in their twenties. Good market for ice if that’s their new demographic.”_ _

__“Any other people of interest?”_ _

__“If there are, vice is keeping it to themselves.”_ _

__Connor sighed. “Not much to go on.”_ _

__“Nope,” agreed Gavin, running a hand through his hair. It was fucking ridiculous. No real description, no real leads, nothing._ _

__“Not up for the challenge?” smirked Connor, elbowing him in the side._ _

__Gavin snorted, eyeing the android up and down. “Course I am.”_ _

__Connor looked to the sky thoughtfully, and Gavin was worried that the android didn’t believe him._ _

__Then a mischievous look crossed his face. “Think we can solve this in less than a week?”_ _

__That was more like it. Gavin grinned. “If we do, we should get paid vacation time. Real paid vacation time. You wanna call Fowler?”_ _

__Connor blinked several times, LED spinning yellow. “...Done.”_ _

___No fucking way._ _ _

__“Really? Did you actually message him?”_ _

__“Of course.”_ _

__Fuck, this guy didn’t give a shit. “Gotta appreciate your guts.”_ _

__“Metaphorical guts,” reminded Connor, then frowned. “Or bio-guts?”_ _

__Gavin shrugged, his lips twitching upwards. “Guts are guts, prick.”_ _

__His LED spun yellow again. “Fowler accepts. Two weeks each. But if we don’t, we owe him two weeks unpaid overtime. Also, we need to make sure not to kill any innocent bystanders. He emphasises that this a simple incentive. Not a bet.”_ _

__“Holy shit. Pretty good incentive.”_ _

__Could they do it? Fucking right, they would._ _

__“Gavin.”_ _

__Connor had stopped walking and Gavin brought his attention back to the case._ _

__The woman was right. The house was decked out in hundreds of balloons, dangling from the trees, gate, pavement and strewn on the large path leading to the back garden._ _

__“Show time, barbie,” Gavin tugged at his sling. “We’re fucking winning this b-... incentive.”_ _

__Connor grinned, moving aside. “After you, detective.”_ _

__*_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin, showing up at Tina and Susan's door with a basin and five packs of water balloons to fill  
> Tina: This is not how you make friends, Gav.  
> Susan: Hyperactive man-child....
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He inhaled deeply as Liz wandered through a group of people, spotting them.
> 
> "Fuck, I should be heavily drunk for this,” he whispered to Connor. “You’re about to see some of the finest fucking acting you’ve ever seen in your short life.”
> 
> Connor chuckled, dropping his hand from his back. “I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The guys get started on the case!
> 
> And also a little bonding session ;)

Chapter 8

“Didn't she say these kids were turning four? Seems a bit extravagant..."

The back garden of the four-bedroom house was huge. On one end was a massive table filled with food. Small cut sandwiches, chicken and various other small meats, along with sliced vegetables and dips. The only thing that Gavin could imagine the kids enjoying was the massive cake in the centre, but even that was decorated with flowers. Shouldn't it have cartoon characters on it? 

On the other side was pretty much a small playground, which looked amazing. A shoot, a swing-set, a massive climbing frame and a big sandpit, occupied by two similar looking girls in matching pink dresses, hair unnaturally curled. The twins, no doubt.

But that was immediately offset by the soft jazz music that spilled out of small, circular speakers sitting on little tables over the garden, while men and women chatted and laughed, their mouths full of food, champagne flutes or wine glasses in their hands. A surprising number of adults for a birthday party for two kids. 

Gavin was immensely grateful that Connor had convinced him to wear the button-up shirt Tina had put at the front of his wardrobe.

He had never felt more out of place and he had a feeling that was on purpose. This woman wasn’t hosting a party for her kids. 

She was hosting a party for her fucking ego. 

He had only ever been in a couple of these types of homes as a kid. The carers had mostly demanded that they speak only when spoken to, never let any dirt touch the inside of their perfect houses and never, under any circumstances, embarrass then in front of the people they were trying to impress. God fucking forbid they broke the rules, then the smokescreen really fucking faded...

Perhaps he was lucky he’d had that type of experience. He could see through the bullshit façade most people put on.

He absently scratched at the scar on his nose until Connor nudged him.

“Divide and conquer?” the android said, glancing at him.

“Fuck, do we have to?” Gavin whined softly, glaring at the people around them. 

“Honestly? I wish we had another choice…” he answered, placing a hand on Gavin's back and pushing him gently forward. “But we don’t, and I believe we have a bet to win.”

That’s right.

The bet. 

The case.

Game face.

He inhaled deeply as Liz wandered through a group of people, spotting them.

"Fuck, I should be heavily drunk for this,” he whispered to Connor. “You’re about to see some of the finest fucking acting you’ve ever seen in your short life.”

Connor chuckled, dropping his hand from his back. “I look forward to it.”

“Gavin, how wonderful to see you!” 

Liz glided towards them, which was impressive in those six-inch heels. Clad in a long blue halter dress, she would look more in place at the Oscars. Difficult to believe she was a teacher.

_Painfully friendly and welcoming._

_Here we fucking go._

“Liz,” he smiled, reaching out his arms. “Thanks for inviting us. Your place looks great, as do you.”

_And the Oscar goes to…_

“Oh, thank you, you’re so sweet,” she said, waving her hand in faux embarrassment before giving him a quick embrace. “Let me get you a drink and introduce you to some of the neighbours. I don’t suppose he’ll…” She gestured softly to Connor.

He was also grateful that Connor had convinced him not to bring his firearm. Might have broken the new ‘no shooting of innocent bystanders’ rule already.

“No, Liz,” said Connor calmly, a gracious smile on his face. “But thank you for thinking of me. You’re very kind. And hospitable.”

The Oscar goes to fucking Connor.

“It’s no trouble.” She tried for another smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. 

She was obviously more comfortable being intolerant on her own turf.

“Come on,” she said, linking her arm with Gavin’s only available one and leading him towards a table close to the house. It held several glasses, some prefilled, and plenty of bottles of rosy and white wine. “What can I get for you?”

“This also looks great but I don’t usually drink this early-” Gavin started.

“Don’t be silly. It's a party,” laughed Liz, lifting a glass of something bubbly. “Here you go. From the looks of you, you deserve to _let go_ a little.” She winked at him. “I never had a chance before but, would you mind if I ask what happened?”

“Choice of profession,” shrugged Gavin casually, accepting the drink. “I had a call out, went to make an arrest and I ended up with a bullet wound. A through and through. Not too much damage, but enough for the doc to recommend some time off.”

“You poor thing," she said dreamily, touching his face. Her hands were cold. "You’ve taken such a beating, to keep us all safe."

He caught Connor’s eye, who shook his head disbelieving.

“I’ve had worse.” He sipped the bitter drink.

"Liz.”

Liz’s hand shot back to her side as she twirled around. “Honey, come meet the man who moved into George’s old place.”

The man was white, tall and wide, bald head and ruddy cheeks, dressed in a light blue shirt and navy chinos. Older, looked respectable, possible candidate for their supplier. He cleared his throat.

“Frank Miller,” the man said, reluctantly holding out his hand.

Gavin gave it a firm shake. “Gavin Reed. This is my partner, Connor.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed as soon as he looked at Connor, or more precisely, his LED. 

But Connor held his gaze steadily. “It’s nice to meet you.” He didn’t hold out his hand, clearly recognising the tension.

“Your _partner?_ ” he sneered, glancing at Gavin.

“Work partner, sweetheart,” Liz clarified quickly, flashing them a tight smile. “Gavin is a detective for the DPD, isn’t that wonderful?”

Fucking charming. 

He wondered which would have bothered the man more, that Connor was an android or another guy. Not that it mattered. The familiar disgust in his tone made the muscles in Gavin's back stiffen. He’d heard enough of that shit growing up, hearing it as an adult and being forced to keep his mouth shut made his blood boil.

But this was a case. 

And it was fucking _astounding_ how many times he’d had to remind himself of that over the last forty-eight hours. 

Frank seemed to relax. Slightly. 

“Nice to meet a neighbour,” the man said carefully. “Got into trouble with you lot back in my younger days. Before the family came along.”

“None of us are saints,” smirked Gavin, giving him a friendly pat on the arm. He knew how to build comradery with these types. “I would love to tell you some amazing stories from back in the day…I’m sure you have plenty to tell too.” He gave the guy a wink.

“Ha! Not gunna share those with you, cop!” He slapped Gavin on the back. It never failed to work. “You don’t want any of these fancy drinks. How about I get you a beer?”

“Absolutely,” said Gavin, putting his glass down, glancing at Liz. She gave a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes but she turned and waved her hand at a group entering the garden, swiftly leaving.

Frank put a heavy arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get you a proper drink then, _detective_.”

Gavin gritted his teeth as his shoulder throbbed under the weight of the arm. He tried to look around to see Connor but the man started chatting and he had to focus on the task at hand. 

_Divide and conquer._

He trusted Connor to take care of business on his end.

*

Connor watched as Gavin was led away by Frank.

He was clearly in pain, but as always, Gavin would never let anything get in the way of the job. 

And Connor wasn’t about to either.

He leaned against the wall of the house, trying to remain inconspicuous. He scanned all the faces available but none were giving away any red flags.

Dillon Jones wasn’t present and it was unlikely they would meet him at this particular event. 

He glanced back over to where Gavin and Frank were standing, near a small shed at the bottom left of the garden. The man was holding out a large glass bottle to Gavin and then, for some reason, the man took hold of Gavin's chin, moving in close to his face...

_//Begin preconstr-*END_

Connor tore his eyes away. That wouldn’t be helpful to either of them. Gavin was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

Maybe he should have let him bring his gun…

No.

Focus.

He needed to look through Frank and Liz’s home. If there was any trace of red ice, it would be there and he would find it. At least he had unwittingly ruled out the garden shed.

Connor slid towards the conservatory door, trying carefully not to draw any attention…

“Connor!”

A bright voice shouted his name and a small body pushed into him, gripping onto his shirt and spinning around him. 

“Hi!”

_//Samuel Garcia, ten years old, elementary school student._

Sam grinned up at him, dark green eyes almost black with excitement. 

“Hi, Sam,” said Connor, genuinely happy to see the boy. He momentarily forgot about the house. He’d get there sooner or later. “Did you just arrive?”

“Yeah,” he replied, letting go of Connor and stuffing one hand into his pocket, jutting the other over his shoulder, shyly. “My uncle brought me. He’s over there.”

Connor followed Sam’s thumb over to a tall, thin man, pale white skin and greying blond hair.

The man was dressed far more casually than most of the attendees, in a blue t-shirt and jeans. He was holding a glass and chatting to Liz, with a strained smile on his face.

“His name is Sandy,” Sam said quickly. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Well…” he glanced back at the house but Sam was already holding his hand and leading him away. 

_Shit._

“Uncle Sandy!” Sam shouted.

The man turned around. “Hey kiddo,” Sandy said. “Have you made a new friend already?”

“This is Connor,” he said happily.

Sandy held out his hand, smiling apologetically. “Sorry if he’s bothering you.”

Connor shook his hand. “He’s not. It’s nice to meet you, Sandy.” 

“You too. He has a bit too much energy some times,” Sandy grinned, rubbing Sam’s hair roughly. “Do you want to get the water-guns from the bag? Go on.” He shoved Sam towards a hefty bag near the table. 

“Mrs Miller, can I fill these up inside?” asked Sam hesitantly, lifting the bag.

She looked uneasy.

_Perfect._

“Please,” said Connor, politely. “Let me.”

Liz smiled tiredly. “Of course… um…”

“Connor,” he reminded her, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

“Yes. Connor. Go ahead. Keep the kids entertained. That was one of your _things_ , wasn’t it?” she giggled, leaning into a wincing Sandy, sipping her wine. “That should keep you busy.”

The woman wasn’t just awful. 

She was obviously an idiot too.

And he was about to be kept _very_ busy.

He took the bag that Sam was holding out eagerly. “Let’s go inside."

“Yes!” he squealed excitedly.

Sam raced towards the house, tugging open the conservatory door. Connor followed, wiping his shoes on the mat, until Sam dragged him the rest of the way inside.

The kitchen was a wide room, decorated in black and white, all sharp corners and edges. No plants or family photographs. Connor had been in quite a few homes but this was by far the least lived in. 

It was as if someone had designed it as a show room. It was… cold. Uncomfortable.

“I’ll fill these,” Connor said, lifting the bag onto the shiny black counter, “and you can use them as you need them. Is there someone here you can play with?”

“Yeah!” said Sam, rushing back to the door. "Ben is here! I’ll get him, he can pick first.”

Sam shot out of the room.

Finally, Connor was alone. 

He ran the water and filled up the large water-guns as quickly as he could, resting them side by side on the hard counter. 

_Time to explore._

He left the kitchen and entered the next room. 

An empty living room. Nothing of interest.

Next was a bathroom. He took his time to look around.

It was just as cold as the kitchen, lots of dark colours, no toys to suggest that there were children living here too. Everything was painstakingly clean… other than the metallic drain of the sink. 

Quickly circling two of his fingers around it, Connor pressed them to his tongue, testing for red ice. 

_//Red Ice: Not Detected_

_//Gunpowder Residue: Detected_

Interesting. Someone had washed residue from their hands recently.

He left the bathroom, spotting a door opposite, underneath the stairs. Most likely a basement door.

He tugged at it to no avail and looked at the lock. 

It was new, one that required a six-digit passcode.

He pressed his hand into it, interfacing until the numbers began flashing in a frenzy over the display.

The little light on its corner turned green and the door clicked.

It was almost too easy.

He pushed the door open just as the excited squeals of kids sounded from the entrance of the house. 

Moving quickly, he snuck inside, closing the door and shutting himself in complete darkness.

Hm. Not ideal.

He had minimal night vision, nothing that could combat the complete darkness of a room with no windows.

Connor reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, turning on the torch function.

Sure, he could do without one, but it felt more comfortable these days to talk to people outside of his own head.

He needed to get used to the silence there.

No, not silence.

Simply his own voice.

He couldn’t admit how painful it was to get used to.

Shining the torch down the stairs, he descended carefully before looking around the room. 

_//Memory recall: Negative experience received_

Suddenly, he had the instinct to run as he processed the sight in front of him.

Guns. Everywhere.

They lined all three available walls of the room. Semi-automatic rifles, short-range shotguns, pistols, even a few sniper rifles… enough weapons to arm the entire neighbourhood. 

_//Backup image saved to DPD database_

Detroit was strict in its gun control laws. Frank Miller certainly did not qualify as someone who should be allowed a destructive weapon, not with a previous criminal conviction. 

Considering there were forty-three guns in total on show and only eight of them had serial numbers, it was safe to say that Frank had to have acquired almost all of these illegally.

Connor searched the room and he frustratingly discovered no red ice. Not a trace. If Frank was the supplier, he was impeccably, almost impossibly, vigilant. 

There was nothing more to see, and Connor couldn’t wait to leave this room. 

Turning back up the stairs, he peered out of the door. 

Safe to leave.

Closing the door behind him, he heard heavy footsteps heading towards the hall. 

“You, android.” Frank appeared, running his eyes over Connor before they flashed to the basement door. Connor tilted his head innocently. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He was just as charming as his wife. Apparently there _was_ someone out there for everyone.

He thought swiftly. “Bathroom,” Connor said, forcing his face neutral. “The children are playing with water-guns and they will need towels.”

“Towels…” repeated Frank, suspiciously. He stepped closer, moving into Connor’s space. “Get the towels and get the fuck back outside.”

Connor didn’t look him in the eye, playing the part of the obedient android. "Of course."

He moved to the bathroom, brushing past Frank, who refused to move his mass from the small hall space. Connor lifted two towels from the rail. 

“Yeah, you do what you do best, android,” derided Frank, with a snigger, as Connor moved past him again. “And while you’re at it keep your fucking boytoy away from my wife.”

_Gladly._

*

Gavin had been dragged away, practically force-fed a terrible but ‘expensive-so-it-must-be-good’ beer, and had to talk ‘cop’ to a guy who clearly despised his entire profession but was incredibly curious about his bruises. 

He was going to have to wash his face twelve times to get that musty scent off of his skin.

Luckily, the kids started playing with water-guns, so Frank had to trudge inside to get towels on the wife's orders.

“Duck down, Gavin!” 

Sam appeared in front of him, as his friend yelled and squirted him with his water-gun. He giggled hysterically.

Falling onto the grass, Sam squirmed backwards a little before worming his way forward. His t-shirt rode up ever so slightly and something caught Gavin's eye. Was that a bruise? 

“Hey, Sam. Are you…” But the kid was already on his feet, dashing off. 

Then the conservatory door opened and Connor was being forced out, with Frank gripping onto his shoulder, hard.

_Fuck no._

He was about to march over and unleash the aggression Connor was so fond of talking about, until he spotted the tiny, but unmistakably, smug look on his face.

Like the cat who got the fucking cream.

Gavin strode towards the door much more relaxed. 

_Painfully friendly._

“Hey Con," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I leave you alone for two minutes and you're being escorted out by the host?”

Frank shoved Connor towards him. “It’s all yours, cop,” he said slyly. “Just keep it out of the house.”

Oh, fuck this guy.

“Don’t you worry, Frank,” he said, taking the towels from Connor and handing them to Frank, before wrapping his arm around Connor’s waist. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the party.” He ran his thumb over the android’s hip, sliding it underneath his shirt, squeezing him close and giving Frank a wink. 

He ignored the eyeroll and whispered ‘for fuck sake’ coming from Connor.

Wait. 

_Did the android just say ‘fuck’?_

Not the time.

Frank glared at him, then shook his head, looking away. “Whatever keeps you away from my wife, man. You can fuck whatever you want.”

If Gavin wasn't such a stickler for the law, he'd drop a bag of red ice right on the grass and point the finger at the prick.

“Thanks for the permission, Frank. And thanks for the beer. You’re a good man,” he said cheerfully, as Frank grumbled and walked away, dumping the towels on a nearby table.

Gavin dropped the smile. His face fucking hurt from it.

“Was any of that really necessary?” asked Connor.

“Probably not,” he said childishly. “It was fun though, and that guy is an outrageous asshole. How’s the shoulder?” 

His hand left Connor’s hip to move to where Frank had his vice grip. But Connor had his own hand there already and instead of stroking his shoulder, Gavin grazed his hand over the android’s fingers. He caught Connor’s eye and stared at him for at least three seconds too long.

They both quickly dropped their hands.

Definitely not the fucking time.

“It’s fine,” Connor said, turning fully towards him, pretending to adjust his sling. “Far better than yours. Did you discover anything?”

“Yeah," Gavin said, with a slight cough. "I discovered that Frank has a piss-poor taste in beer and a thing for prodding my bruises like a certain android I know." He winked, knowing full well it was a little flirtatious.

Fuck it. He wasn’t going to worry about it.

“Other than that, this has been a waste of time.”

“Speak for yourself.” And there was that smug look again. If this was a competition, Connor seemed certain he had won.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Spill it,” he said, pinching Connor’s forearm.

The android grimaced but then flicked him expertly in the chest exactly over a bruise. Gavin pressed his lips together with a groan.

Connor tugged him a little closer. “No red ice,” he whispered, smiling like he was sharing a joke. “A lot of guns though.”

Gavin stared at him. “Registered?”

Shaking his head and dropping his hands, he whispered, “No serial numbers on most of them. Probably because most of them are illegal to purchase here. He has them hooked on the walls in the basement like trophies. I saved pictures. We should update Vice.”

Gavin felt the tension in his shoulders immediately. “Fuck... right. Okay.”

He could have sworn he felt Connor’s fingers touch his palm but then-

“Connor! Gavin! Are you leaving?”

Sam moved quickly between a few meandering groups of people, who barely took notice of him. 

Kneeling down, Connor reached out and stroked the kid's hair. "Looks like we have to."

Sam didn't budge, like he usually would with Gavin. He just smiled at him. It was fucking sweet.

“You having fun?” Gavin asked. The kid immediately hugged into his side, and Gavin tucked an arm around him. "Take that as a yes?"

“Yeah," he said quickly, pushing him away to look up at him. "Connor filled the water-guns up for us and Ben and I-”

“Sam! Are you bothering Connor again?”

A man broke away from a group, glass in his hand, wispy blond-grey hair moving in the wind, a smile softening his sharp features.

“I’m fucking not…” muttered Sam, scratching his arm and rolling his eyes.

Gavin grinned. “Language, Sam.”

“Sorry about him,” the man said kindly. “I think he’s had too much cake. A little hyper. No more for today.” He scolded Sam.

“Aw, come on! Just one more slice, uncle Sandy?” the kid huffed, before he spotted someone through the crowd and sped off with his water-gun raised.

“He’s a good kid,” laughed Gavin, understandingly. “Gavin Reed.” He held out his hand.

“Sandy Jones.” The man shook his hand even as Gavin faltered.

_Jones._

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Connor’s LED spinning yellow.

“Oh,” Gavin said slowly. “I’ve met Sam a few times in the neighbourhood. He told me his last name was Garcia?”

Sandy nodded, pressing his lips tightly together. “That’s right. His mother, Sarah, was my sister. Unfortunately, she and his father Alvaro Garcia, were killed in a car accident a few years ago. Sam survived, thankfully. Of course, I took him in.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Connor softly. “He’s very lucky to have such a good family.”

Sandy smiled gratefully. “That’s very kind of you to say. It took a little time to adjust. I have a son who can be rather difficult, you see. You know how boys can be sometimes.”

_Like being a boy gave his kid a free pass to sell ice..._

“Yeah, we are scoundrels,” smiled Gavin, repeating what Tina constantly told him he was. 

“Anyway, I’m glad to have met you both,” he shook both of their hands again. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

With that, he nodded and walked back to his group. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he murmured to Connor.

The android nodded. “Absolutely.”

*

As soon as they were back inside, Connor made sure to close the living room curtains so Gavin could take off his sling with no worries of anyone seeing in. 

Gavin had darted straight to the kitchen and Connor heard the coffee machine running.

They'd already discussed their plans to find out more about Dillon Jones, with new urgency now that they knew Sam was living with him. Gavin didn't seem keen to discuss it further, while there was nothing more they could do about it tonight.

That was understandable. Gavin seemed to relate to him.

“You can take it off now,” Connor said, leaning his back against the couch and looking into the kitchen.

“Thank fuck,” the detective muttered, almost ripping the sling from his body. He stretched out his arm, groaning. Clearly the light painkillers were having an effect. He’d outright refused to take anything stronger.

Gizmo rubbed up against Connor’s leg, purring, his little body vibrating.

“Shall I feed the cat?”

“Food’s in the cupboard at the end,” Gavin answered distractedly. “There are treats in the drawer underneath.”

Connor opened the cupboard to find several different types of cat food. He picked the one he deemed most nutritious.

Opening the drawer underneath, he paused. A few bags of cat treats, some bars of chocolate, and… thirium lollipops.

_//Gavin had prepared for his arrival_

Connor smiled. For a man Hank had called ‘an aggressive prick’, he certainly had a soft side.

He closed the drawer, forgoing the treats. The cat was overweight. Proper food would benefit him more than treats.

Gavin, on the other hand, was busy pouring sugar _directly_ from the container into his mug until he was seemingly satisfied. 

“That is an incredible amount of sugar,” Connor couldn’t help but comment, as he emptied a sachet of food into Gizmo’s bowl.

“For an incredible guy,” Gavin turned around and winked. Then he cleared his throat. “Actually, since you can’t drink this shit, I have something… Can you just go sit on the couch for five minutes? Put the tv on.”

That piqued Connor's interest. He eyed Gavin curiously. “Why?”

Gavin scoffed. “Just fucking do it, dipshit.”

Intriguing.

Connor did as he was told, sitting in the centre of the couch and giving the television a blink. He found a channel with a curious cartoon about forest animals who enjoyed killing each other. Certainly not one for children. He left it on.

After a few minutes, Gavin appeared at the couch.

“Right, dunno if you’ve tried this before,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Apparently it’s the android equivalent to coffee. Doesn’t smell a thing like it though... I'd say it probably needs sugar.”

Connor found himself smiling ear to ear. “You bought this for me?” He shifted over a little.

“Don’t get weird about it, barbie,” he muttered, sitting down in the space Connor had made, his face turning slightly red. “Can’t be eating and drinking in front of you all the time...”

“Thank you.” He moved to take the mug but then hesitated. There was steam rising from it.

_//Memory recall: Negative experience received_

“It only hurts if you hold on for too long.” Gavin put the mug onto the coffee table. “You can wait until it cools. I drink it scalding.” He grinned, settling back into the couch.

Connor bit his lip, pulling his feet up underneath him, leaning over to take the mug by the handle.

_//Initiate conversation**_

“We should speak to the detectives tomorrow,” he said carefully. “They’ll want to know about the arsenal.”

Gavin held his coffee against his lips, staring at the television.

He thought hard. “Detective, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Fuck off, Connor,” he snorted, glancing at him sideways. “It’s fucking ‘Gavin’. And sure, you can ask me a personal question.”

“Good-”

“-If I get to ask you one afterwards. Honest answer for an honest answer,” smirked Gavin, sipping innocently on his coffee.

Oh.

“Like a game?” frowned Connor.

Gavin scoffed. “More like mutually assured destruction, you nosey fucker.”

“How can you make a simple question such hard work, _Gavin_?” Connor rolled his eyes.

Gavin dug a hand behind his back, grabbing the cushion and threw it in Connor’s face. 

Connor caught it swiftly in one hand, chuckling, and placed it under his forearm and mug. “Your loss.”

“You’re such a dick,” huffed Gavin with a slight laugh, turning towards Connor, pulling up his feet, leaning his knees against the back of the couch and resting back against the armrest. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt before he finally relaxed. “Right, shoot. What do you want to know?”

“I know you won’t tell me who did it…” Connor started, “but why did a detective feel the need to attack you?”

Gavin choked on his coffee.

_//Negative response likely_

After a moment he answered. “Con… that’s actually pretty personal.”

“Was I unclear when I said ‘personal question'?” teased Connor, braving a sip of his drink. It was warm, thick and somehow soothing. He turned towards Gavin, crossing his legs on the couch and leaning back against the armrest, holding his mug to his chest.

“I...” Gavin grimaced, inhaling deeply. “Ah, fuck it. I worked with Vice on a case about three years ago. Caught the bad guys, good job all round.”

Connor sipped more of his warm thirium, afraid that if he moved too much, Gavin might think better of answering. 

“We went out to celebrate, and I ended up getting... close to one of the detectives. Went back to his place and... you know.” He shook his head. “Fuck,” he hissed, barely audible. “I don’t want to tell you this.”

Connor shook his head. This was unfair. “Gavin, you don’t have to-”

“Shut up, I’m doing it now,” he sipped his coffee then cleared his throat. “Long story short, I ended up in this fucking awful relationship. It went from passive aggressive to full on fucking aggressive in a matter of months.”

Shit.

Connor could feel the thirium coursing through him.

_//Gavin was once in a relationship with the detective who injured him_

Gavin put his coffee down, resting his temple against the back of the couch. “Went home one day to find him with a nose full of cocaine. A fucking _vice_ detective. It did explain his behaviour though,” he snorted, giving a disgusted chuckle. “It got violent and I left. Filed a report but it’s not like I have the best fucking reputation, and he had lots of people willing to back up his _good character_. Made me look like the fucking aggressor, but I swear I never laid a hand on that prick. In the end, the report went nowhere and the asshole's had it out for me ever since.”

Connor's hand tightened on his mug. Gavin was telling truth. 

_//Gavin has been hurt by this detective before_

“Anyway,” he said, kicking a foot gently against Connor’s knee. “My turn?”

Connor felt the same intensity he had when he'd first discovered the extent of the detective's injuries, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He swept his thoughts to the side, storing them for later, and nodded.

“Why don’t you ever talk about your robo-messiah? Seems a bit strange that you would help bring freedom to androids and then pretend it never happened.”

He wasn't expecting that. “I don’t pretend…”

Gavin kicked him again, a little less gently. “Don’t make me get the fucking ice.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Very well,” he chuckled, taking another sip of the soothing liquid. “Towards the end of the protests, my mission to catch deviants changed to focus on the deviant leader, or the ‘robo-messiah’, as you call him.”

_//Honesty_

“By the time I got him alone, I was both ready to shoot him, and bordering on deviancy myself. Markus offered me a choice, and I deviated. Or, at least, I thought I had.

“After I released the androids from Cyberlife and the others freed the androids from those _recycling centres_ , Amanda regained control of me… tried to make me shoot Markus… I found a backdoor in my mind that broke the programming completely, and I left as soon as I could.”

Connor glanced at Gavin, who was staring at him intently. “Markus wanted me to stay, but how was I supposed to do that? I was the reason some of these people were on the run and captured in the first place. My existence put them in danger." He didn't like to think about it. "I left, found Hank, he took me in and I re-joined the DPD.”

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” agreed Connor, with a small smile.

“Who the fuck is Amanda?” frowned Gavin.

Connor stretched out his legs, prodding his foot into Gavin’s side. “That’s another question, detective. It’s my turn.”

“Fuck, this game is stupid,” he breathed, stretching out his own legs, leaning them against Connor’s.

His nerve lattice buzzed excitedly at the close contact. “It’s your game,” he reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on then.”

There was a question Connor had wondered for a while. “Why do you hate Hank so much?”

Gavin’s eyes shot up. “Connor, I don’t _hate_ Anderson.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. Although he was certain that was true, he had no doubt the detective knew what behaviour he was referring to.

“Fine,” he caved. “Back in the day, Anderson was fierce. Loved his job as much as I do, gave a shit about everything and everyone. Looked after that kid of his like he was the most precious thing in the world. When he died, Anderson lost it.”

Gavin stretched over to the coffee table, picking up his mug and taking a long drink. “I’m not gonna pretend I know what it’s like to lose a kid. Anderson was a good fucking dad, he doted on him but when he was gone, he hit the drink hard.”

Connor shuffled on the couch, resting a little more against Gavin, trying to dispel his discomfort.

“You didn’t see the worst of it,” the detective continued, staring into his mug. “By the time you came along, he had almost stopped coming in altogether, which was a fucking relief.

“I accept that he needed time to grieve, to rebuild his life without his kid, but coming into work fucking wasted?” Gavin shook his head, gulping down the last of the coffee. “We’re cops, we carry guns, and badges. We have to speak to people whose family members have been found dead. The amount of times I had to put his ass in a taxi home…” he gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “Fuck, Connor, at some point I just stopped caring.”

That was… understandable.

He had seen the self-destructive side of Hank when they’d first met, and that was years after Cole’s death. How much worse had it been before?

Gavin knocked his legs against his. “Then you showed up with your stupid face and unstoppable attitude. It was like you and the deviants gave him something to fight for again.”

Connor shook his head, letting his fingers absently pick at Gavin’s jeans. “He gave me something to fight for too. Your turn.”

There was a moment of silence while Gavin stared at him, looking like he was trying to decide if he should ask what he was about to ask. He rested his hand on Connor’s leg, tapping it with his thumb, but then seemingly decided better of it. “In Fowler’s office, he mentioned officers…" he said with a shrug. "You seemed to know what he was talking about.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Are you getting a hard time?”

“No more than anyone else, although…” Connor paused, not sure if he should finish, but this was a game of honesty. “I believe some officers have a bet on how long I will last.”

“That’s a fucking stupid bet," scoffed Gavin. "The DPD will have you as long as it can-“

It was nice that his mind went there first, but Connor bit his lip and Gavin’s eyes narrowed, clearly recognising the mistake.

“You don’t mean in the DPD, do you? A bet on how long you’ll stay alive?”

Connor nodded. “The words used were something closer to ‘how long before I break.'"

The hand on his leg tightened a little, his heartrate increasing. “Who the fuck said that, Connor?”

Honesty for honesty. “That’s another question. You’re terrible at this game.”

Gavin was clearly frustrated and Connor found that oddly comforting. “I hate this. Go on then.”

“When Fowler said this was your last chance, what did he mean?”

Cringing a little, Gavin turned his face into the back of the couch for a second, running a hand through his hair, before answering. “I haven’t exactly been great keeping my temper in check over the years... turns out Thomson was the last straw. If I do well here, not upset any civilians, no complaints, not send anyone to the hospital without it being the last resort, I get to keep my job, and if I’m really fucking lucky, stay on my promotion track.”

Connor blinked. “Is that why you didn’t fight back when the detective attacked you? Or was it because of what he meant to you in the past?" Either way, it was manipulation at its most horrifying. No doubt the vice detective would have known both of these things...

_//The detective was aware Gavin would not fight back_

Gavin raised an eyebrow.

Oh. 

“You’re right,” huffed Connor. “This is a stupid game. Your turn.”

Gavin fidgeted a little, before sighing. “Fuck it... why did you kiss me?” he said quickly.

Connor’s eyes shot up and the detective was staring at him hard, a slight flush in his cheeks.

_Why did he kiss him?_

That was easy.

“I wanted to,” he said, simply.

A tiny look of smugness took over the detective’s face. 

It was the truth. Connor's physical wants and desires were few and far between but with that one, he had no doubt. In the moment, with Gavin so close to him, it had been all he could think about.

“Do you want to do it again?” It wasn’t so much an invitation, more a general question.

_Yes._

“That’s another question,” Connor winked. It was his turn to be smug. “It’s as if you don’t understand the rules of your game...”

Gavin snorted. “Fair enough, barbie. Right…” He dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “I promised Tina a phone call.”

That definitely didn’t sound honest but perhaps he needed some time alone. Connor could understand that. He'd been there for... had it even been a full two days?

Connor had to check in internal clock to confirm. It felt like he'd been there for far longer. “Okay, I can go upstairs.”

“Actually,” he said, flicking Connor’s leg, “have you taken a bath with those new bio-nerves yet?”

Soaking in hot liquid? “Absolutely not.”

“Fucking thought so,” Gavin said, shaking his head judgingly. “You need to relearn this whole heat thing. Imma go upstairs, run you one. You can soak and actually _enjoy_ the experience, while I talk to the bitch.”

Connor was dubious. “Pause the game?”

“Yeah, we're picking this up later,” he smirked, jumping to his feet. "I'll be back in five."

Connor sighed in frustration at the absence of Gavin against him.

He would much rather feel more of _that_ heat than anything a pool full of water could provide...

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor: Am. I. Fuck. Getting into that large bowl of water.  
> Gavin: Did you just drop the f-bomb at a bath?
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter was getting far too long so I had to end it here!!
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you calling me a deviant?” Gavin chuckled, leaning into Connor’s touch.
> 
> “Absolutely, detective,” said Connor. “We wouldn't be where we are now if we hadn’t both changed. I actually enjoy working with you. I enjoy talking like this.
> 
> “And I must admit,” he continued with a cheeky smile, letting his hand fall to stroke Gavin’s bruised cheek, “I preferred kissing you to knocking you unconscious...”
> 
> Gavin stared up at him wide-eyed, but said nothing.
> 
> “Honestly, I would very much like to continue like this,” Connor carried on, wondering if he was making a mistake. He put the bottle down on the ground, rubbing his hands together uncertainly. “But I know how easy it is to fall back into familiar habits, so-”
> 
> He didn’t get to finish.
> 
> Gavin carefully leaned up, capturing Connor’s lips with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin gets a much needed telling off while Connor's chillin' like a villain.
> 
> *Warning for an injured kid towards the end... :(

Chapter 9

Gavin rolled up his shirt sleeves. He poured the bath quickly, making it deep and not too hot, adding some strange bath oil he found at the back of his bathroom cabinet. 

Could Connor smell things?

Well, he could feel things, and although Gavin might not completely understand it, he was determined to make this a positive experience. 

“Hey, Con?”

“Yes?” Connor called from the living room couch.

“Do you have pyjamas? Or some kind of comfy clothes?” He was pretty sure the android had been wearing jeans for the last forty-eight hours. Nobody wanted to put on jeans after a bath.

“I do… why?”

“For changing into once your done,” he shouted back to him, going into his room and pulling a black hoodie out of his wardrobe. It was his favourite, years old but it was big and cosy. He hung it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. “I’ve left a hoodie in there for you too, in case you’re cold when you get out…” He faltered.

Wait.

What the fuck was he doing?

He was only supposed to be using the bath to distract the android so he could make a phone call away from prying ears. He wasn’t supposed to be giving so much of a shit…

But who the fuck was he kidding? 

He’d had more fun in the last few days than he’d had in the last few _years_. Connor’s attitude, his quirks, his stupidly big, _metaphorical_ heart… it was impossible not to fall under his spell.

Today, he’d been treated like shit, pushed around like he was nothing more than an object, spoken about like he wasn’t even there, but he’d kept his cool far better than Gavin could have ever hoped to. 

He’d still teased Gavin and urged him on. He’d let Gavin hold him close to annoy Frank. He’d still ruffled Sam’s hair, talking to the kid like he was the only person at the party. 

Connor wasn’t just good at his job.

He was a fucking amazing person.

If Gavin was being honest with himself, he almost didn’t want this case to end…

He shook that thought off quickly. 

As soon as this was over, Connor would go back to working with Anderson and this whole experience would fade away. 

It would be fine.

He tried to ignore the horrible sinking feeling that came with the thought. 

Fuck, it was only four days ago that they’d had their first full conversation. 

How was it that only ten minutes ago, they were practically snuggled in on the couch, sharing secrets like a couple of teenagers. 

Was he really in that deep already?

No.

Fuck, no.

“Connor!” he shouted, taking a seat on the edge of the bath. “You’re good to go.” He swirled his hand in the water. Warm but not too hot.

A second later, Connor appeared behind him, eyeing the bath suspiciously. 

Gavin actually laughed. “You’re not afraid to face a bullet with that fancy new upgrade but you’re going to let a bath defeat you?”

“No, I’d rather not be shot either,” he answered, his LED a curious yellow. “I just don’t understand why people willingly lie in a pool of hot water for enjoyment. A shower cleans the body far better.”

Glancing above him, Gavin chuckled. “I take it that’s why the shower is set to lukewarm?”

He shrugged.

“Go get your clothes,” Gavin said, shaking his head. 

Connor sighed, but left the room, shuffling back in a few seconds later with a black t-shirt in one hand and a tartan pyjama bottoms in the other. 

Okay. 

Now for the hard part.

“Take your shirt off,” Gavin said, feeling the heat rising in his face when Connor raised an eyebrow at him. 

He shrugged again, putting the clothes in his hands on the floor and unbuttoning his shirt. 

Swallowing hard, Gavin turned away. This. Was. A. Bad. Idea.

Sure, Gavin could have simply asked him to roll up his sleeves, but… 

He turned back to watch Connor slide his shirt off, revealing a slim, well-defined torso, broad shoulders, pale with tiny freckles dotted randomly. His skin was so smooth and, as he expected, there wasn’t a hair on his body. A circular indentation sat at the centre of his chest. 

If Gavin looked hard enough, the indentation was the slightest blue. 

Real, but not real.

No. Not ‘not real’. Just not human. But so alive.

“Gavin, I’m sure my eyes haven’t changed location…”

Shit. Gavin’s eyes shot up and Connor was smirking down at him. Cocky little…

“Just get the fuck over here,” huffed Gavin, and Connor laughed a little, kneeling next to the tub. “Go ahead. Put your hand in.”

Connor glanced at him. “I needed to be shirtless for this?”

“I swear to fucking-”

“I’m doing it,” chuckled Connor, but even as his cocky attitude held strong, he hesitated, his hand hovering above the water. “There’s steam.”

Fuck, this was getting them nowhere.

“C’mere.” Gavin reached over and clasped the back of Connor’s hand, interlacing their fingers, trying to ignore the way the contact made his heart race. “This is ridiculous, by the way. I want you to know that.”

But Connor was staring at their hands. “Ridiculous,” he repeated, absently.

Gavin rolled his eyes, and slowly started lowering their hands into the water. 

“Oh,” said Connor, his attention flickering back to Gavin. “That’s…”

“It’s fucking great, right?” grinned Gavin.

His LED brightened blue. “It’s not terrible,” he conceded with a smile. 

“The circle on your head says you’re loving this,” laughed Gavin, letting go of Connor’s hand. 

Connor frowned, his LED dimming, lifting his hand from the water. 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Gavin said quickly, wiping his hand on his jeans and trying to bury the urges threatening make this a very uncomfortable situation. “I’ll go make that phone call.”

He turned on the small radio in the corner, set to a chill-out station. Soft music poured through. He hoped it was enough to drown out the conversation he was about to have. “So I know you’re not using your superpowers to listen in,” he explained with a smirk. No need to lie.

Connor raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to do all this, you could have just asked me not to eavesdrop.”

Gavin nodded. “I know.” And he fucking did. “I just… wanted to. Whatever.”

And with that, Gavin quickly escaped the room, closing the door behind him.

What the fuck was he doing?

Running a hand through his hair, he darted off to his bedroom, throwing his phone onto the bed and tearing off his jeans and shirt. He changed into black jogging bottoms and a t-shirt. Then he picked up his phone, and thought of who to call.

Not Tina. Judging by her texts the night before, she might be suffering a bit today.

Chris it was.

He scrolled through his limited number of contacts.

Reliable as always, he answered on the second ring. 

“Have you revoked the no visitation order already?”

_No visitation order?_

That’s right, he was supposed to be injured. 

“Not important,” he breezed past it. “I have a question.”

He could hear Chris cooing on the other end. “Always great to hear from another demanding child, Gav.”

Gavin snickered at that. “Damian’s worse than me. Besides, I’m serious, I need to know something.”

“Alright, ask away.”

“Do the officers have a fucking bet on how long Connor will last?” he whispered, heading down the stairs and sliding quickly into the other bathroom. He left the door slightly ajar so he could hear when Connor was finished.

“What’s brought this on?” asked Chris seriously.

“Yes or no, Chris,” he said tiredly, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall.

He heard some noises in the background, Chris murmuring and then a door clicking closed. “Yeah, they do.”

Gavin shook his head in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” exhaled Chris. “Officer Kelly started it.”

_Kelly._

Gavin wouldn’t fucking forget her. “That dick called a fourteen-year-old victim ‘asking for it’ at a fucking crime scene last week.”

“Sounds like her. She’s a nasty piece of work. I don’t know how she still has a job. She got Graham and Archie to buy in too. McCready almost lost it when he found out. Thought he was going to hit her in the breakroom. I had to take him outside.”

Gavin pulled his knees up, leaning his elbows against them and gripping his hair hard. “I’ve seen Graham on scenes with Connor…”

“That guy’s a creep,” said Chris, with a loathing that Gavin rarely heard from the man. “He doesn’t say much because he’s got fuck all nice to say.” He exhaled deeply. “The station’s pretty split, Gav. It’s still early in this revolution, not everyone is going to be accepting straight away and it takes a few generations for this shit to die out. Even then…”

Gavin snorted. Chris was right. Even these days, being a cop was synonymous with being white, straight and male. Not exactly categories Gavin, Chris or Tina fitted into. And Tina hit the fucking jackpot. He’d seen the shit she had to deal with, but those assholes were a dying breed.

Now, Connor was the target. He’d been watching the android for months. How the fuck could he have been so blind?

Even though he already knew the answer, he had to ask. “Other than the bet, has Connor been getting shit from the officers on cases? In the office?”

“Of course he fucking has,” Chris sighed heavily on the other end of the phone. “And it’s not just the officers. Tech guys, suspects, witnesses. Fuck, man, a dickhead from forensics tried to stop him from going on a scene because he wasn’t supervised. Made some comment about him licking the crime scene like a dog that needed to be put down.”

“What the fuck?” Gavin leaned his head back, gripping the phone tight in his hand. “Where was Anderson when this shit was going on?” 

“They wait until he’s not around. Come on, this isn’t new. It’s playground bullshit. When you’re different, the bullies find a way. You’re telling me kids never found a way to kick your gay ass without an adult present?”

His mind flooded with those exact memories. How did he not see this? He should have fucking known. “This shit has to stop.”

There was a weird pause and Gavin thought the call had cut off before Chris spoke up again. “I don’t want to be a dick about this, I get your attitude is changing and you’ve been on the rough end yourself, but…”

He didn’t want to hear the end of this. “Chris,” Gavin muttered.

“You know, at least you weren’t conniving about it,” Chris offered. “You treated Connor like shit out loud. It doesn’t excuse it but at least you never tried to hide it. These guys wait until other people are out of the way before getting to him.”

No.

He’d done that too.

Outside the evidence room, inside the evidence room. And other people were doing the same fucking shit. “Chris…”

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t judge these guys harshly when you’ve done just as much-”

“Chris!” He couldn’t listen to this.

“Gavin, you held a fucking gun to his head!” yelled Chris. Gavin cringed at the tone. “Did you forget that I was there? You were so riled up, you were ready to shoot him! Just because he was trying to protect another android! I’m sorry, man, I love you, I do, but you have to understand how fucked up that was!”

“I know-” Gavin started.

“You don’t fucking know,” growled Chris. Another pause, and it sounded like Chris was trying to keep his temper in check, which astounded Gavin. Chris was the most down to earth person he knew. “You assaulted him in the middle of the breakroom. Treated him like he was less than nothing in front of people. You were paving the way for others to think that it was acceptable. We’re supposed to lead by example and you…” 

Silence again.

“He’s alive, Gav. Like me and you and Chen. We’ve all had people come down on us for being what we are, for things we can’t change, we _know_ this game. And you led the fucking crusade against the Connor.”

“I didn’t fucking mean…”

“Yes, you fucking did,” chastised Chris, in exasperation. “You need to _own_ that. Don’t pretend it never happened, don’t pretend that it was just guys being guys, that shit doesn’t work. Kelly and Graham are the worst of the worst, I know you’re better than they are. You need to make it right.”

Gavin swallowed. He hadn’t expected to be absolutely scolded, but Chris was right on the mark. 

“I’ll make it right,” he promised. He wasn’t stupid. He knew every single horrible thing he had done to Connor and he knew the android couldn’t help but have them memorised. Chris putting him in leagues with Kelly and Graham… it sent a shiver up his spine. “I swear, I’ll make it right.”

“Good. Go do it.”

“Wait, Chris?”

“What?”

“Thanks,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Say goodnight to your kid. And buy McCready a drink. He’s one of the good guys.”

*

Connor let the water drain from the tub, stretching out his body. 

That was a surprisingly enjoyable experience. His nerves tingled, skin flushed. Wiping a hand over the bathroom mirror, he saw the blue blush of his cheeks. It was odd, but nice. 

He dressed quickly and, after a brief consideration, pulled on Gavin’s hoodie. 

It was black, faded and too big for him but it was incredibly soft and comfortable. It reached over his palms and held in the warmth from the bath.

Knowing it was clothing Gavin usually wore made it somehow warmer.

Just another thing that made no logical sense. 

He left the bathroom and made his way down the stairs. He could hear Gavin’s voice as he descended, muffled at first, then he heard the words, “buy McCready a drink. He’s one of the good guys.”

_McCready._

Connor hadn’t spent much time with the man, but McCready was always respectful. He spoke to him at crime scenes as if he was any other detective. 

As promised, he didn't listen, heading for the kitchen. 

After the bath, he wanted another hot thirium drink Gavin had made and he spotted a few bottles sitting out on the counter. He poured one into a pot on the stove and set about making Gavin a coffee as well. Decaf. It was late after all.

Heavy footsteps made their way to the small arch. Connor glanced up. 

_//Heartrate elevated_

The detective was dressed in his black sweatpants and plain black t-shirt, tight over his muscular frame. He had his phone in one hand, his other hand running nervously through his slightly overgrown hair. 

He looked shellshocked. 

“Gavin, is everything okay?” he asked quietly.

Gavin’s eyes flickered up to him, then back at his phone before he placed it on the counter, turning his attention to Connor. 

“Connor, I… fuck,” he hissed, gripping his hair hard.

Then, in a few steps, he was in Connor’s space. 

Very slowly, Gavin held a hand against Connor’s cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb. 

Connor froze. 

He never expected most of the things Gavin did and that would usually excite him but, with his hands tucked into the sleeves of the hoodie, waiting for the thirium to heat up, he simply felt confused.

Without a word, Gavin stepped even closer, leaning into him and pressed a kiss against his flashing yellow LED. 

_//Backup saved_

_//Increase contact**_

The detective stepped back, and Connor could only stare into those deep grey eyes, his LED spinning blue. 

“I’m…” he started, his face reddening. “Connor, I’m sorry.” His voice was thick and he looked down. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

_An apology?_

His probability programming must be malfunctioning. 

Nothing could have prepared him for that. What had changed in the past half hour?

“For what?” frowned Connor. 

Perhaps he could hazard a guess, but he’d stopped trusting his assumptions when it came to the detective.

Gavin laughed bitterly. “Where do you want me to start? The punch to the stomach? The names I called you in front of other officers? The three fucking times I held a gun to your fucking head? The one time I fuckin’ fired it…” Gavin swallowed, digging his palms into his eyes. “I was an idiot.”

“Gavin, I told you before-”

He pressed a finger against Connor’s lips. “Not interested in what you have to say right now, barbie.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, gently pushing his hand away. “I’m beginning to lose your intentions here.”

“Just… fuck,” he said, struggling. “Let me do this right.”

“Fair enough,” Connor shrugged. Something clearly had Gavin upset, but Connor couldn’t help the twitch in his lips as the detective paced the room, running a hand through his hair. 

He let the man gather his thoughts as he finished making the decaf coffee and heated thirium. 

After adding the appropriate, but horrifying, amount of sugar into the coffee, he put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder to still him and placed the mug in his hands. Gavin gave him a distracted thanks without looking at him.

Connor lifted himself onto the kitchen counter, picking up his mug by the handle and sipped on his warmed thirium.

He watched with a tilted head as the man wandered backwards and forwards in the kitchen. 

His hair was messy, shoulders tensed, frowning heavily, but sipped delicately on the coffee, closing his eyes as it passed his lips.

He looked so ruffled. 

It was… cute. 

That was the apt word. 

“I’m… you’re…” Gavin stopped pacing, taking another sip of his coffee. “When we first met, I wanted to hurt you, _break you._ I was a fucking coward.”

A coward? That was the last word Connor would use to describe the detective. He frowned but kept quiet, taking another sip.

“You’re so much better than me, better than them,” Gavin muttered. “Fuck this.” He put down the coffee and went to the fridge, pulling out a beer and, after quickly eyeing Connor, a bottle of Blue. 

Popping the tops off both, he handed the Blue to Connor.

Connor laughed, placing his mug aside and accepting the Blue. “Thank you.”

Gavin groaned. “Stop being so fucking nice to me.”

“Then stop being nice to me,” grinned Connor, shaking the bottle at him before taking a drink. 

“Whatever, dipshit,” he said, his lips twitching upwards.

“Good start,” he winked. 

“For fuck sake…” Gavin shook his head. “What I’m trying to say is… I was a prick. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t see you as… real. And you’re so, so real.” He took a swig of his beer, clearly struggling to find his words, and then placed the bottle on the table, opening one of the drawers instead. “Come on.”

“Um,” Connor started, before Gavin grabbed his hand, pulling him from the counter and opening the back door. He turned and placed his hands on Connor’s shoulders, pushing him down until he was sitting on the doorstep. 

Gavin turned and jumped down the last few steps, pacing the dark garden instead. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it quickly, taking a deep draw. He shoved the packet into his pocket. 

_//Gavin smokes cigarettes when stressed_

Scratching the back of his neck, he exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You deal with so much shit every day and I did nothing but make it worse. Did I start it? Tell me the truth, did I fucking start this shit?”

Sighing, Connor leaned his elbows on his knees, taking a sip of his drink. He shook his head, letting his soft hair fall over his forehead. “No, Gavin. You didn’t start it.”

Gavin huffed, before moving in front of the step where Connor was sitting and dropping down, cross-legged, his head in his hands. “Fuck off, Connor. I put a gun to your fucking head. Multiple times. A laughable amount of times.”

Connor eyed the garden. It was so dark, lit only by the streetlights on the other side and the moonlight above them. Then his eyes fell to the detective, head in his arms, grumbling.

He reached out, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I keep talking but you never actually listen, do you?” 

As the detective peered up, Connor stroked his hair from his forehead. 

“You’re not a bad person, Gavin,” he whispered. 

He wasn’t. Connor knew that.

Gavin cared deeply for the people in his life and he had a fierce protective streak. 

Which sometimes made him behave like an absolute idiot.

A shaky sigh left the detective. “I am. I fucking am.” 

Gripping Connor’s knees, he pushed himself up, returning to his pacing. 

“I’ve had my share of hate. But that was already getting old by the time I got to the academy. It’s a new brand of shit for you.” He took a draw of his cigarette. “I didn’t know. No, I didn’t fucking _think._ You don’t deserve any of the messed up bullshit you get, Con.”

Heat came to Connor’s face at the nickname, at the fondness in his voice, at the sincerity of his words. He quickly sipped more of the Blue and cast his eyes nervously down. He didn’t know what to say.

How could Gavin think he could hold any of what he did back then against him? Connor was so utterly under the influence of Cyberlife, even _he_ didn’t see androids as living beings.

Gavin threw the cigarette end across the garden and knelt in front Connor, lightly touching his chin to get his attention. 

“You’re too good for the shit I put you through.” He leaned his forehead against Connor’s knee, gripping his calf. “I’m sorry.”

Connor smiled softly. “I know you are, and it’s okay.”

The detective lifted his head, resting his chin on Connor’s knee instead. “How? How can you be so fucking forgiving?”

There was a brief pause as Connor thought. “I told you before. Back then, I was a machine. I was programmed to find and deactivate… murder… my own people. I was controlled by my own style of preconceptions. If I blamed you for your own preconceptions, I would be a hypocrite. I deviated from my programming.” 

He ran his fingers through the detective’s hair, tilting his head. “I suppose you did too.”

“Are you calling me a deviant?” Gavin chuckled, leaning into Connor’s touch. 

“Absolutely, detective,” said Connor. “We wouldn't be where we are now if we hadn’t both changed. I actually enjoy working with you. I enjoy talking like this. 

“And I must admit,” he continued with a cheeky smile, letting his hand fall to stroke Gavin’s bruised cheek, “I preferred kissing you to knocking you unconscious...”

Gavin stared up at him wide-eyed, but said nothing.

“Honestly, I would very much like to continue like this,” Connor carried on, wondering if he was making a mistake. He put the bottle down on the ground, rubbing his hands together uncertainly. “But I know how easy it is to fall back into familiar habits, so-” 

He didn’t get to finish.

Gavin carefully leaned up, capturing Connor’s lips with his own. 

It was soft, tentative, and Gavin must have been waiting for Connor to respond because as soon as he leaned into him, Gavin deepened the kiss.

_Yes._

Connor held the detective's face, taking in every single detail, committing the experience to his memory, to his backup memory, into as many databases as he could find.

Soon enough, the man was kissing him desperately, as if he was trying to force his apology through his lips, and Connor willingly accepted.

Suddenly, there were hands under his hips and Gavin was standing up, hoisting Connor easily with him.

Connor gasped against Gavin’s mouth, wrapping his legs tightly around the detective’s waist, arms around his neck. He briefly worried about his sore shoulder but those thoughts quickly vanished as soon as he felt an arm wrap around his hips and a hand slip underneath his hoodie and t-shirt, hot against the bare skin of his back.

The detective’s tongue sneaked into his mouth and Connor's analytics went berserk. 

The cigarette, the beer, the remnants of coffee… Gavin. He wanted more. He _needed_ more. 

_//Increase contact**_

He tightened his legs around him, sliding his own tongue into the detective’s mouth, hearing Gavin groan and feeling his hips pressing eagerly against him in response. 

Then they were moving, Gavin carrying him effortlessly back into the kitchen, kicking the door shut without looking, never letting his mouth leave Connor’s. 

Connor revelled in the feel of Gavin's muscular body holding onto him, impatient fingers digging into his skin, the deep, breathless kiss, the hot growing pressure against his hip.

Gavin was pushing him onto the edge of the kitchen counter, and very quickly there were two fervent hands underneath his hoodie, exploring his back hungrily, the nerves under Connor’s skin on fire everywhere Gavin touched.

Connor's fingers grasped the detective's hair and the man groaned loudly, breaking the kiss to catch his breath. 

Kissing his way down Connor’s jaw and over his neck, Gavin's hands roam upwards, still hidden, holding him even closer. He buried his head between Connor's neck and shoulder, unwittingly dragging his teeth over a tight bundle of nerve-endings.

Connor gave a staticky moan, his blue LED brightening, gripping the detective's hair tighter and pressing his face closer…

_Knock knock._

Connor’s LED flashed red and Gavin jumped, hands falling to Connor’s waist as he seemed to instinctively move closer, protecting him from some unseen threat.

_Knock knock knock._

It took them both too long to realise there was someone at the door.

“Fuck,” whispered Gavin in frustration, breathing hard. Connor let his hands fall to the counter, leaning his head against Gavin's shoulder and letting out an exasperated sigh. The man coughed. “Um, you’re gonna have to get that... I need a minute.”

Chuckling quietly, Connor pushed himself off the counter as the detective stepped back, and he headed to the door. He peered through the glass, able to make out a short shadow beyond. “Gavin.”

He quickly unlocked the door and was immediately faced with a boy, bruised, bloodied and shivering. 

“I… fell. Off my bike,” Sam’s face scrunched up, shivering wildly, as he attempted to hold back tears. 

_//False_

It took a moment for Connor’s processors to catch up, but as soon as they did, he reached out slowly to the boy who immediately fell into Connor’s arms. 

“I didn’t know where to go,” sniffed Sam, his voice strained. “My uncle’s away and I…”

“You came to the right place, Sam,” whispered Connor, enveloping the boy in his arms. “You’re safe here.”

Suddenly the detective was at their side. Gavin knelt, taking one of Sam’s hands from Connor’s waist. He eyed the boy, taking in every single detail, from the blood in his hair to the bruise coming up on his face to his messed up clothes. Connor could see the stress levels in Gavin spike. It didn’t appear outwardly though. The detective remained calm, his face soft even. He gripped the boy’s hand a little tighter. 

Connor reached over and closed the door, locking it, sensing Sam’s heart rate calm at the action. 

“Connor, would you get the first aid kit from the bathroom?” asked Gavin, his voice not betraying his increased heart rate and muscle tension. 

“Of course.” 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooft. I mean... sorry for all that.
> 
>  
> 
> Fair warning for future chapters, now that our boys have had their hands on each other, it'll be difficult to keep them apart...
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The android tapped his shoulders lightly, before glancing at him with that fucking _look_.
> 
> “I could distract you.”
> 
> Gavin’s eyes widened. “What do you-”
> 
> Connor leaned into him, pressing his lips tenderly against his. 
> 
> Pulling away, Gavin stared at him deliriously. “Fuck, maybe I should have had a better aim in the evidence room,” he teased with a nervous smirk. “You really are a fucking terror.”
> 
> Connor found the edge of Gavin’s t-shirt, carefully sliding it over his head. Gavin let him, completely transfixed, his heart pounding in his chest.
> 
> “Perhaps if you had tried a different tactic in the evidence room,” Connor smiled suggestively, throwing the t-shirt to the side, “things might have ended very differently.”
> 
> That was good enough for him. Distraction accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>    
> With Sam safely under their roof, Connor finds a way to distract Gavin...
> 
>  
> 
>    
> Little bit of smuttiness here, since they can't keep their hands off each other... (they're gonna bang (apologies), Tina will be pleased)
> 
>  
> 
> *Warning for the obvious - hurt Sam :( and very consensual 'distractions' :)
> 
> **I usually put on a draft then update on my phone before posting but I accidentally posted the chapter without the updates on the 9th!! Did the updates live on the 10th though, so if you reread, it might look a bit different/hopefully better... my bad! No story changes :) **

Chapter 10

Gavin led Sam into the kitchen, patting the counter and letting the kid pull himself up.

Dark green eyes darted everywhere other than him, as Sam nervously tugged at the sleeves of his zip-up hoodie.

Everything about this situation sent Gavin’s mind into overdrive. How many times had Gavin gone to a neighbour as a kid, just to feel safe? How many times had he stood outside a door, hand ready to knock but not quite being able to do it?

But Sam was _here_. He needed him. And the air was tense enough without him adding arms and legs to what could be a simple story.

A tiny sniffle brought him out of his thoughts, as Sam’s small, sleeve-covered hands went to his face. 

“It’s alright, Sam,” he whispered, cringing at the familiar phrase that was repeated to him over and over and over again, always before he was sent right back into the same bad situation. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say that,” grimaced Gavin, moving forward and taking the kid by the shoulders. “This isn’t alright.”

Sam shook his head, biting his lip, his chest heaving. He reached out and gripped tightly onto Gavin’s t-shirt, letting his head fall against Gavin’s chest. 

Gavin immediately pulled the boy closer, running a hand through his overgrown curls, making sure to avoid the bloodied area. 

Although it didn’t look swollen, that was the injury that concerned Gavin the most. 

Thankfully, Connor chose that moment to appear, green bag in his hand along with a fresh t-shirt he didn’t recognise and Gavin’s red zip-up.

He exchanged looks with the android, glancing at the head injury. If any one of Sam’s injuries were serious, Connor would know.

Connor nodded, understanding.

Gavin turned back to Sam. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Swallowing, Sam lifted his head. With trembling hands, he began unzipping his hoodie. Gavin expected him to stop there, which was stupid considering what Connor was holding, but, shakily, Sam started removing his t-shirt too and Gavin felt himself pale. Sam placed his t-shirt to the side, on top of his hoodie on the counter, folding his arms over his chest, looking down. 

This wasn’t a fucking fall. 

Gavin had seen those types of bruises before. Fuck, he’d _had_ those types of bruises before.

He should have been paying better attention at the party. He knew he’d seen something on Sam. He knew something wasn’t right.

He wanted to grab his gun and pay a visit to the fucker that had decided to lay a hand on the kid. He was going to tear them apart piece by fucking piece. 

He needed to move, needed to do something, anything…

But a hand held his arm and Connor was leaning into him, placing a soft kiss against his forehead, before staring at him with those intense brown eyes and gently shaking his head.

The kiss was enough to throw him off the reckless train of thought.

He had no doubt that was the android’s intention. 

Clever shit.

“Gavin, will you make some hot chocolate?” he said, his gravelly voice pleasant and calm. “Extra sugar, please.” He turned and winked at Sam, who gave a weak smile.

Unzipping the first aid kit, Connor removed some disinfecting wipes and bandages. “Don’t worry,” he smiled softly. “We’ll take care of this, then we can relax. You can help me with the tape.”

Gavin couldn’t be more grateful for Connor in that moment. 

This entire situation was too close to home for Gavin to think clearly, and Connor seemed to recognise that.

Connor was giving him something to do. Something for Sam to do too.

He was distracting them. 

So fucking smart.

Gavin busied himself making hot chocolate, pulling the milk out of the fridge and the coco powder from the cupboard near the two. 

He tried to focus on the task at hand but found himself listening intently to Connor’s encouragement.

“You’re really brave, you know. Some of these bruises are old.” At that, Sam gulped, but Connor continued. “I received a new upgrade a few weeks ago that allows me to feel sensations that I couldn’t feel before. I fell and scraped my knee.” 

Gavin frowned curiously, as he heated the milk on the stove. Absently, he picked up Connor’s forgotten thirium and re-heated it in another pot.

He followed Connor’s movements out of the corner of his eye as the android continued using the wipes to clear the dried blood from the scrapes along Sam’s arms. 

“You wouldn’t have thought anything of it,” Connor dismissed, “but at the time I cried so hard Gavin thought I was dying.”

Gavin snorted, but joined in on the fantasy. “It was barely a scratch,” he fibbed, with a smirk to Sam. “You’d have thought his leg had fallen off with the way he behaved.”

Sam giggled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“Maybe I did overreact,” Connor rolled his eyes, tapping Sam on the forehead and pointing down. Sam tilted his head with a grin. “When I first received it, I kept it a secret,” he continued, dabbing his scalp with the wipe. Gavin turned to look, and Connor nodded, his LED spinning blue for a second, before resuming its analysing yellow.

_Safe. Thank fuck._

“Gavin found out on his own and thought he’d be funny by putting an ice cube down my back.” The android glared at him playfully and Sam’s eyes strained up as Connor cleaned his hair, giving a short laugh, looking between the two.

“Serves you right for not telling me. And it was really, _really_ funny,” snickered Gavin as he grabbed three large mugs from the cupboard near the stove. “He jumped about a mile into the air.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” muttered Connor, leaving Sam’s hair, tapping the kid's chin. Sam settled back as Connor focused on bandaging a deeper scrape on his arm instead. Sam held out the tape, ready to help.

Distraction. Connor was unbelievably good at it.

Gavin wanted to wrap his arms around the clever android and never fucking let go.

He finished making the hot chocolate and warm thirium, adding some much-needed marshmallows to two of them, and brought all three mugs to the living room, setting them on the coffee table. 

He switched on the television, quickly flicking through the channels and finding a random adult swim cartoon that might have been slightly inappropriate, but Gavin had no doubt that Sam and other kids his age had already seen it. 

When he returned to the kitchen, Connor was pulling an oversized t-shirt over a much calmer Sam. 

“Thank you,” he said, flashing a quick smile at the android. Gavin’s heart fucking melted. 

Picking up his zip-up, Gavin moved towards the two. 

Sam pushed himself off the counter and took the hoodie. He put it on and zipped it up to the neck. It was big on Gavin so came down to Sam’s knees, the sleeves enveloping his hands. 

Still, Sam looked like he’d been handed something magical. Gavin wrapped an arm around the kid’s skinny shoulders.

“Come on, we can relax through there and, if you want, you can let us know what happened.” 

*

Connor watched as Gavin led Sam through to the living room. 

Every wire in his body unwound at seeing the man wrap a protective arm around the child.

It had taken everything to control himself as he'd cleaned up Sam’s skin. Conflicting messages ran across his field of vision, wanting to both comfort the child and aid in his healing process, while also feeling the strong urge to find the perpetrator and see them punished. 

The head injury was the most concerning but after clearing away the blood, there was no swelling or bruising, only a small cut. 

_Only._

Connor bit his bottom lip hard. This wasn't an 'only' situation.

The bruises on his arms and stomach were clearly from being held. 

Adult hands had held him. Tight enough to leave a mark. 

Gavin had recognised that too.

Listening to the soft voices coming from the living room was massively comforting. He had been so focused on Sam, he hadn’t realised how high his stress levels were. He took in a few deep breaths to cool his systems.

Steadying himself, he entered the room and paused, leaning against the archway, simply watching the two. 

Sam was huddled close to Gavin, who had his feet up on the coffee table. They were both sipping the hot chocolate watching some odd cartoon on the television. Gavin looked up. “You gonna stand there all night?”

Sam’s eyes darted towards him, smiling warmly. He shifted a little closer to Gavin, making room on the couch. 

A little more of the stress faded, even more when Gavin nodded his head towards a third mug Connor hadn’t noticed. 

Picking it up, Connor settled himself on the couch next to them. 

His sensors were still on high alert. Sam’s stress levels had decreased to almost normal, but Gavin was still on edge.

“She’s my favourite character,” said Sam, pointing towards the TV. “She’s so weird, but she doesn’t care.”

Gavin laughed. “Right? She just owns it. She’s my favourite too.”

Connor had no idea what they were watching, and he had no intention of searching for it in an external database. This was one of those things he’d rather experience with them. 

“I haven’t seen this,” he admitted, to the apparent disbelief of the other two. “There are a lot of swear words for a cartoon.”

“Don’t lose hope,” chuckled Gavin, hugging into Sam. “He’s barely been active for a year. He has so much to learn.”

By the end of the episode, Sam’s mug was empty and back on the table. His head was resting on a soft cushion in Gavin’s lap while his legs were stretched over Connor’s. He snored quietly. 

Gavin pulled the throw from the back of the couch and reached over to hand it to Connor. He tucked it around Sam.

Gavin’s hand resumed its place stretched over the back of the couch.

 _//Initiate contact**_

After all of the events of tonight, he didn’t need to think about it.

He reached out to lay his hand over Gavin’s.

_//Interfacing**_

Connor blinked as his interfacing protocol instructed involuntarily as soon as he made contact with the detective.

The skin covering his hand began to retract, leaving his white chassis on show. He tried to reactivate it but nothing happened. His emotions and thoughts had taken over his commands.

_//Likely response: Negative_

He quickly pulled his hand back.

But Gavin was too fast.

_//Gavin is very agile_

Great…

Without looking at him, Gavin held Connor’s hand tightly, reaching over to put his mug down before turning to study it intently.

Connor watched, his eyes nervously looking between his bare hand and Gavin’s intense stare.

Then, Gavin simply interlaced his fingers over the back of Connor’s hand, resting them over Sam.

“Want to watch a movie?” Gavin asked quietly. 

_How far had Gavin come?_

He shook his head in disbelief. This night had shaken him to his core. 

But with Sam nestled safely between them, Gavin’s hand holding tightly to his, his stress levels had almost returned to normal.

“How about The Lion King?” he grinned, glancing towards the detective.

Gavin froze. “Son of a… You were listening to me in the shower?”

“I had to make sure my… energy-saving plan worked,” said Connor. “You know, for the planet.”

Scoffing, Gavin tugged his hand away. “You’re not going to hear me sing any more Elton today, you little shit.” He reached forward, careful not to disturb Sam, to the hidden layer underneath the coffee table, pulling out two controllers. He pushed the centre button on one and the television changed. “Volume down.”

The television quietened.

“Here,” he said, holding a controller out to Connor. “This has been a fucked-up day. A half hour on this and we take the kid upstairs. Do you have access to cheat codes?”

Connor took the controller. “I can, if we need them.”

“We fucking do, player two,” he smiled, competitively. “I’ve been stuck on this level for two fucking weeks. Go team.”

*

Connor lifted Sam in his arms and took him to the spare room, the tidier of the two, since Connor hadn’t actually used it the night before. 

The kid was thoroughly exhausted. He didn’t even stir. 

Gavin followed behind them, moving the sheets back so Connor could lay Sam down. 

Carefully stripping the boy of his shoes and jeans, Connor fixed the duvet over him and switched off the bedroom light. They left the door slightly ajar with the hall light on. 

“So, do you want-”

“I’ll just sleep-”

Gavin coughed awkwardly, ducking his head to hide a blush. Connor flashed a smile. 

“I’ll sleep downstairs,” finished Connor, sounding a little apologetic. “Goodnight, Gavin.”

“’Night, Con.” Gavin waved a lazy hand in his direction and let Connor leave, turning to go to his room.

He didn’t bother switching on the light, or even closing his door. The cat would be in soon enough anyway. 

Instead, he did what had somehow become normal.

He paced.

The day had been an absolute fucking mess.

He could barely handle that it had only been _one fucking day._

One day, and he’d been kissed by Connor.

The android that, only the day before, he realised he’d been coming on to.

One day, and he’d been ready to go for it in his fucking kitchen, after begging for the android's forgiveness for trying to kill him.

One day, and the kid he’d been chatting to around the neighbourhood had sought out his own fucking door just to feel safe.

Gavin gulped.

Too much energy. 

He clenched and unclenched his fists. 

He wanted to destroy the bastard that had put his hands on Sam. That kid was a whirlwind. He was _good_.

Sam had said his uncle was away. If that was true, then it was the dealer cousin he lived with that had to be the one. If it wasn’t…

Gavin rubbed the scar on his nose. 

No. They’d be dealing with this in the morning. They’d be meeting with vice. They’d be-

There was a soft chap on his door. “Gavin?”

Connor.

“Might as well come in, dipshit. Not like I’ll be sleeping tonight,” Gavin huffed, tiredly.

“I noticed,” said Connor, entering the dark room, closing the door over behind him, the only light now coming from the quiet street outside and the blue circle on the android’s head. “It’s very difficult to enter stasis while you’re up here… not sleeping.”

“I can’t think,” he grumbled truthfully. His mind was so fucking full. “Or I can’t fucking stop thinking.”

“Sam is here,” Connor said softly, walking over to him. “He is safe. Tomorrow, we will do _everything_ in our power to keep him that way.”

The emphasis in his words was a little fucking terrifying but, for some reason, Gavin felt comforted. He completely believed him.

Connor took him by the shoulders. “That’s going to be difficult to do with you running on fumes.”

“Then what the fuck do you suggest?”

The android tapped his shoulders lightly, before glancing at him with that fucking _look_.

“I could distract you.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. “What do you-”

Connor leaned into him, pressing his lips tenderly against his. 

Pulling away, Gavin stared at him deliriously. “Fuck, maybe I should have had a better aim in the evidence room,” he teased with a nervous smirk. “You really are a fucking terror.”

Connor found the edge of Gavin’s t-shirt, carefully sliding it over his head. Gavin let him, completely transfixed, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Perhaps if you had tried a different tactic in the evidence room,” Connor smiled suggestively, throwing the t-shirt to the side, “things might have ended very differently.”

That was good enough for him. Distraction accepted. 

He grabbed Connor by his hoodie and crushed their mouths together, the sweet taste filling his mouth as he kissed him fervently.

Connor’s arms wrapped around him, kissing him back just as fiercely. He walked them backwards, never breaking away, and when Gavin’s legs hit the bed, Connor kept going, pushing Gavin back until he was flat against the sheets and Connor was over him and straddling his hips in one fluid motion.

Fuck it, it had been a shitty day, the absolute fucking worst, but as he felt Connor's feverish hands moving slowly over his stomach and chest, face pressed against his, the tension began to leave him. This was somewhere he could put his energy. The worries and shittiness would still be there in the morning...

Gavin folded his arms around the android's back, pulling him close. Connor’s hips ground down and Gavin's own hips chased the pressure. 

He couldn’t help it.

He sucked the android’s bottom lip between his teeth, before sliding his tongue into his mouth.

Fuck, he had never wanted anyone so badly.

Gripping Connor’s thighs hard, he broke the kiss, breathing heavily against the android’s mouth.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice thick with arousal.

Connor kissed away from his lips, over his cheek and jaw. “I came to your bedroom, didn’t I?” he whispered against Gavin’s ear. “This was my idea.” He gently took his earlobe between his teeth, running his thumbs over his ribs.

A shiver ran through him at the sensation.

“Fuck," he muttered, dropping his hands to grip on the bedsheets. He bit down on his lip. “That’s not a fucking answer…”

The weight on top of him changed, and Gavin peered up in the darkness.

“Yes,” answered Connor, taking hold of Gavin’s hands and placing them back on his thighs. “I’m very sure. Are you?”

Gavin swallowed the thrill he felt at those words. “Absolutely.”

He leaned up, kissing the android fiercely, his hands finding their way to the bottom of his hoodie and t-shirt. 

He pulled the clothes up and over the android’s head, tossing them to the side before his mouth found Connor's again. He wrapped his arms around Connor’s slender waist, his hands savouring the smooth, warm skin underneath them. 

It was like nothing else existed. Just this moment. Just Connor’s weight on top of him, his perfect body enclosed in Gavin’s arms, kissing him like he was the only person in the world.

There was no one there to tell them to stop this. No one to tell him off for trying to interact with the android, no one to tell Connor that Gavin was a prick to be avoided.

No one to remind them that six months before, they'd been throwing fists at each other, not desperately making out in bed like they’d never get another chance.

Hold on...

“Stop,” Gavin exhaled, and the android pulled away instantly, LED spinning yellow before turning back to blue. “Con… have you done this before?”

Frowning, Connor said, “Never.”

_Fuck._

That should change everything.

That should make Gavin stop.

But, as selfish as it was, he didn’t want Connor to have his first experience of this with anyone else. He didn’t _trust_ anyone else with this.

And he didn’t want anyone else to have their hands on Connor.

He kissed him softly, an arm going around his waist and quickly turned them both over, switching their positions. 

Connor gasped as Gavin dropped him onto the mattress, hovering over him.

“It’s _you_ with the new bio-nerves, right?” he smirked, playfully.

There was no way that Gavin was going to let Connor _distract him_ like that. Not when this was an entirely new experience for him, something they could be exploring together instead. 

And Gavin was determined to explore every damn inch of the beautiful android.

Connor stared up at him, brown eyes curious and daring. "That is correct..." he answered carefully.

“Mm hm,” Gavin sounded quietly, kissing the android’s jaw, pressing his nose into his cheek. “You said you can feel pain and pleasure, right? Like sexual pleasure?” No need to be coy now.

Connor actually chuckled, relaxing back into the dark sheets, his hands stroking Gavin’s waist. “How about you find out for yourself?” he breathed against Gavin's ear, challengingly. 

Gavin swallowed.

How could he resist? He wanted to fucking _devour_ him.

“You asked for it,” he laughed darkly, planting his mouth on Connor’s, his eagerness on full show, but he didn't give a shit. He’d never been so turned on.

He kissed down his jaw, tasting the android’s skin, biting softly into his neck, desperate to hear the same noise from Connor as he had a few hours before...

“Shit!” hissed the android, his voice suddenly laced with static.

There it was. An almost unnoticeable indentation under Connor’s skin. 

Android erogenous zones… he fucking knew it!

His victory was short lived as Connor grabbed a fistful of his hair, holding him against his neck, and an involuntary groan escaped Gavin’s mouth at the pressure against his scalp.

The android huffed a short laugh. “You like this,” he said, tightening his grip.

His chest heaved and his stomach muscles tightened. Yeah, he absolutely did. 

“As much as you like this,” he teased, swiftly wrapping his arms under the android’s shoulders, pulling him up and biting down harder on Connor’s neck, before sucking at the area.

“Ah…!” Connor groaned, pressing Gavin’s face closer. The android’s legs wrapped tightly around him, the hand leaving his hair to grasp his shoulders. “Gavin... keep doing that…”

The sweet taste, Connor’s whole scent, filled Gavin like it was fucking life itself. Unbelievably perfect. 

The android’s hips pushed upwards and Gavin, his mind completely gone, immediately chased the heat. 

_Holy shit._

So much for calling the android ‘barbie’.

There was nothing ‘barbie-esque’ about what was pressing against him.

But he didn’t fucking care.

Connor could have had nothing.

He could have had a dick made entirely of fucking spikes.

Gavin wouldn’t have given a shit. 

He just wanted…

“Connor…” he managed to force out, pushing himself from the android’s grasp, staring down into those scorching, half-lidded eyes. “Are you sure-”

“Still consenting, Gavin,” Connor muttered hurriedly, pulling him into a heavy kiss. 

Gavin returned it greedily, soaking it all up, every fucking movement, until he had to breathe, and even then…

He broke away to press a wet kiss into Connor’s neck, against his collarbone, against his bare chest.

He dipped his head further down, running his tongue over a nipple… 

A slight hitch in breath. Nowhere near the reaction he’d had at his neck.

The exploration continued. That circular indentation, the one that looked slightly blue…

Almost real, but not real.

No. So fucking real.

Gavin held Connor tightly by the waist, pushing his mouth against the top of the indentation, running his tongue along the outline...

A sudden gasp from Connor made Gavin grin, and he continued, his tongue tracing the circle on the trembling chest, the android gripping hold of his arms.

As soon as he tried to move away, one of Connor’s hands flew to Gavin’s head, curling into his hair, pressing him into the centre of the circle, arching his chest into the touch.

“There…” tremored Connor, his eyes squeezed shut, head pressed back against the pillow under him. “Please…”

Abso-fucking-lutely.

He swooped in, led by Connor’s grasp, delving into the centre, his teeth trying to grasp something, but only scraping against his skin.

Connor shuddered, chest heaving, a slight whirring sound escaping from him. A hand ran over Gavin’s back, fingers digging desperately into his muscles.

This was amazing.

Just fucking amazing.

How had he worked next to Connor for so long and not thought of _only this_?

He slowly left the area, kissing over the android’s hard stomach, his hips, before running his teeth over the skin next to his low waistband. 

Looking up, his fingers curled around the top of the android's pyjama bottoms, waiting for permission.

As much as he wanted to just go for it, he wasn’t about to do that without the total go-ahead. This was Connor's experience. 

Connor nodded quickly, but when Gavin didn’t move, he breathed exasperatedly, “Yes!”

Gavin gave a throaty laugh, even if he was just as eager to continue this as the android was. He hooked his fingers around the waistband, pulling them towards him.

Suddenly, Connor was bare in front of him, and as confident as Gavin was, he felt himself waver.

This was _Connor_.

The guy he’d tormented, the one he had been incapable of speaking to without anger, the one he hadn’t been able to stop looking at for fucking _months_ …

He didn’t get a chance to dwell on it.

Connor was leaning up, gripping hold of Gavin’s jogging bottoms, tugging them down and Gavin gladly took care of the rest.

And there they were, four days into a new… whatever the fuck this was.

“Con,” croaked Gavin, staring down at the nude android in front of him. 

Fuck, he wanted him so badly. Every moment he wasn’t touching him felt like a waste.

It was dark, but he could still make out Connor’s slender frame, lying naked on Gavin’s bed, hair dishevelled, a deep flush to his face, LED spinning a ridiculously bright blue. 

And definitely not barbie-esque in the slightest. 

Gavin hadn’t seen a _lot_ of dicks in his life, but this was nothing like the ones he had seen. Smooth and long, a slight blue tinge to the tip… Just as ‘not human’ as the rest of him, but still so fucking real.

_Focus._

He absently stroked Connor’s thighs as he stared at his beautifully carved muscles, mystified at how any human could have created someone so… 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Gavin whispered, not really meaning to say it, but he didn’t have control of his mouth at the best of times.

Connor gave a quiet, shaky laugh, LED pulsing, leaning up a little. “That’s definitely not where my eyes are, detective.”

Fuck, that was even hotter. “Detective? Really?" chuckled Gavin. "Fuckin’ android.”

Ducking down, he kissed Connor’s inner thigh, enjoying the arched back and pleasant sigh he received at the contact. 

He headed higher, until he felt something. Another indentation, running through the centre, from his knee all the way up. He kissed it, before pressing his tongue heavily against it, and a staticky noise filled the air. 

Did these run all over his body? Were they all as sensitive as this? 

Gavin had to find out.

“Gavin..." the husky voice exhaled. 

Gavin released him, nuzzling his cheek against Connor’s leg. “Yes?” he smiled, teasingly.

“Shit,” the android gave a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. He leaned his thigh into Gavin’s face, arching his hips up a little. “Do that again.”

"Yes, sir," he whispered, unable to keep the wide grin from his face. He did as instructed, scraping his teeth along the hidden dent, sucking at the spot, enjoying the staticky groans filling the air.

But he absolutely _revelled_ in seeing Connor’s skin start to falter, leaving patches of white against Connor’s bare thigh everywhere his lips touched.

The android was losing control. Gavin was making that happen.

Fucking amazing.

He kissed higher, heading for the area that had been pressed against him all night.

Barely taking a pause, he licked his way up Connor’s length, before taking him into his mouth.

Connor gasped. “Shit! Gav…”

Thick and sweet, so ridiculously sweet. He pulled up slowly and it drew the same staticky moan that his thigh had. 

Incredible. 

He wanted to keep that noise coming. He wanted to do this all night.

How long had it been since he had spent so much time on someone?

Never.

This was a first.

_This was a fucking first._

He didn’t want to stop.

He kept his mouth moving while letting his hand delve lower…

Fuck. It was damp, wet, more android stuff that Gavin wouldn’t question. Not tonight. Connor’s breath hitched sharply as he gently prodded.

Just how extensive was this nerve ending upgrade?

He pulled away. “Con-”

“Absolutely consenting,” he breathed intensely, without lifting his head, his voice like an old scratched CD. “Don’t you dare stop…”

This guy was blowing his mind.

Gavin carefully pushed one finger against Connor’s entrance, then two, before delving in.

Both were readily accepted. 

“Fuck, Gavin!” His back arched upwards, his fingers gripping the bedsheets beneath him.

Gavin didn’t delay. How the fuck could he?

Placing three fingers against the slick entrance, he kissed Connor’s hip as he slid them into him.

Connor gave a pleasured groan as Gavin kept moving, curling his fingers inside the android, mesmerised by his eager movements and the sharp, static sounds emitting from those perfect lips. 

Those lips… Gavin needed to be kissing them right fucking now.

He slowly kissed up his stomach, his chest, over his neck, until his lips met the android’s, then he just fucking lost himself…

He pressed his face hard against Connor’s, that sweet taste overpowering him, until Connor was biting against his lower lip and pushing his hips upwards, Gavin’s fingers still deep inside him.

“Gavin,” Connor pleaded against his lips.

“Yeah?” whispered Gavin.

Connor tightened his thighs against Gavin’s hips. “I need _you._ Now.”

“We don’t have to-” he started, perfectly ready to keep doing what they had been doing.

“We absolutely do have to,” he exhaled, leaning up to grip his arm. He tugged it, until Gavin’s fingers released, pulling Gavin’s body down against him and slamming their mouths together.

Gavin’s amusement at the android’s impatience was over as soon as he felt that warm, fucking gorgeous bare body moving underneath him, the android's hardness pressed against his own, arms holding him even closer, a slick tongue sliding into his mouth.

There was no backing out now. 

Gavin wouldn't fucking dream of it.

He changed his position, pressing against Connor, before slowly pushing himself inside…

“Con…” groaned Gavin in sheer pleasure, as he was swallowed up by Connor’s intense heat.

“Ah… yes!” came the staticky response against his ear, deep and satisfied, arms tightening around his shoulders. 

This was the best fucking distraction. 

He bit down on Connor’s bottom lip, then kissed him ferociously, his tongue battling it out with the android’s as he pushed deeper, burying himself inside him, desperate to be completely surrounded by him.

He definitely wasn’t going to last long, not with the sounds Connor was making, not with the vibrating chest underneath him.

He pulled out slowly, basking in the tightness, as his hand travelled to the hardness between them. When he pushed back in, he moved his hand over Connor’s length. 

The arms wrapped around him squeezed, and a moan vibrated against Gavin’s mouth as he continued thrusting, moving his hand in time, over and over until Gavin could barely handle it, feeling the heat building up inside him.

The warmth of Connor’s body, the sweet taste of his tongue in his mouth, the pressure of his thighs against his waist, hips rocking fervently to meet his…

Bright blue light filled the room and Connor pulled away, pushing his face into Gavin's cheek instead, his LED illuminating wildly as Gavin’s name became white noise in the android’s mouth, his body trembling. Gavin held him tightly but he was just as fucking gone, pushed over the edge.

“Connor… fuck!" he groaned, his eyes clenched as he rode out his own orgasm, thrusting deep into Connor’s vibrating body, his mind going completely blank, savouring every second.

He buried his face into Connor’s neck as he tried to catch his breath, his entire body buzzing.

“Fuck,” Gavin repeated finally, as graceful as ever, lifting his head and pressing it against the android’s chest. 

Connor relaxed back, giving a tired chuckle, his body still whirring loudly. He ran a hand through Gavin’s damp hair. “Fuck, indeed,” he said, breathlessly, his voice still holding a hint of static.

As carefully as his trembling self would allow, Gavin pulled out of Connor, letting himself fall over the android, keeping close. 

He didn’t want Connor’s hand to fall from his hair, or his forehead to break contact with the still vibrating chest. All he wanted was to bask in what had just happened. 

“You’re so fucking good at distractions,” he whispered, his filter completely off. 

“All part of the programming,” said Connor, offhandedly, stroking his hair.

Gavin leaned up, raising an eyebrow. The android's cheeks were flushed blue, and he had a teasing smile on his face. “If I’d known this was a part of your programming, we would never have had a fucking problem,” he grinned.

“In that case,” replied Connor, placing a quick kiss against the scar on his nose, “I’ve enjoyed how difficult you’ve made this for yourself.” 

“Fuck off,” Gavin said lightly. 

“I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment,” said Connor, resting back against the pillows with an arm over his eyes. Then his voice turned robotic. “Please try again later.”

Gavin snickered, giving him a lazy shove. “That was pathetic. _You_ can try again later.”

He reached over Connor to grab his own t-shirt from the floor. He wiped down Connor’s stomach and chest. “Blue, huh?”

“I barely knew I could do that,” shrugged Connor, his lips twitching upwards.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” smirked Gavin, cleaning up his own mess from the android with a shake of his head.

Gavin had clearly fucking enjoyed himself.

“The evidence is there, isn’t it?”

“Not an answer, dumbass,” snorted Gavin, throwing the dirty t-shirt in the android’s face.

Connor laughed, throwing the t-shirt back to the floor. “I had no idea I could feel anything like that. It was incredible, Gavin. You’re incredible.”

Gavin could feel his face reddening at the praise. “It’s comforting, knowing you have nothing to compare it to.”

“Well,” the android said thoughtfully. “I suppose that is true. You’re incredible as far as my experience allows, then.”

“I’ll fucking take it,” laughed Gavin, feeling suddenly exhausted, the energy wiped out of him. 

He tugged the sheet down from underneath them. Lying back, he pulled it over their naked bodies. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around the android's slim frame. “Tell me how great I am later. And..." he hesitated, mumbling, "thanks. I was spiraling, felt ready to kill someone."

"And how are you feeling now?" Connor asked gently.

Gavin thought. "I'm feeling like I need some fucking sleep and we've got asses to kick tomorrow. Go enter stasis.”

“Yes, sir,” mocked Connor quietly in Gavin's voice. 

Gavin pressed his face against Connor’s chest. The vibrations were starting to fade, but he could still hear the gentle humming of his systems working. It was weirdly comforting after all the fucked up things that had happened that day. He hadn't realised just how much he'd needed this.

And he couldn’t help the fucking _warmth_ that flooded him when Connor folded a careful arm around his shoulders, kissing the top of his head and began tracing the vines in his tattoo softly until Gavin couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: I'm gonna kill some folk, nothing can distract me.  
> Connor, opens one button.  
> Gavin, blinking:... what was I saying?
> 
>  
> 
> Gavin's shoulder is going to be sore in the morning...
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you feel weird?” Connor asked, carefully.
> 
> "Well,” muttered Gavin, with an awkward shrug, reaching out to touch Connor’s thigh, giving it a small squeeze. “It isn’t even six in the morning and I feel turned on right now. That’s pretty fucking weird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Sam is sound asleep, Connor plans...
> 
>  
> 
> (I was just trying my best to get them out of the house but Connor took over...)  
>  
> 
> *Warning for the guys being horny for each other.
> 
>  
> 
> Honestly, this chapter was a bitch, I've been editing it for a million years...
> 
>  
> 
> Also, your comments make me squeal excitedly. I can't...

Chapter 11

_//Exiting stasis**_

_//5:03am_

_//Priority: Samuel Garcia_

The first thing Connor sensed was a warm body wrapped securely in his arms. 

Another new experience. 

Waking up with someone else.

With the detective.

With _Gavin._

The man was draped over him, a leg in between Connor’s, a hand resting on his stomach, head settled on his chest. The sheets had been kicked away through the night.

_//Gavin is a restless sleeper_

It didn't surprise him that Gavin was just as energetic in his sleep as he was awake, but at that moment, he just looked peaceful. Connor couldn't help running his fingers gently through the man's soft hair, before lowering them to trace the tiny, delicate scars on his arm and back, almost entirely hidden beneath the vines of his tattoo. It was strange to see him so unguarded, his muscles relaxed, breathing softly against Connor's skin. 

_//Backup image saved**_

Perhaps the distraction didn’t go exactly how Connor had planned, but it had still done the trick. The energy building up in the detective had been certain to turn destructive. Connor didn’t just sense it, he felt the exact same impulse himself, but he had been around Gavin long enough in the last six months to know that his reactions were far more volatile than his own. 

He didn’t need his analytical programming to see that he was on the verge of picking up his gun and going straight to Jones. 

Focusing Gavin's energy away from the situation was the smartest thing to do, even if it was _entirely_ selfish on his part.

The man might be a frustrating pile of puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together, challenging, foul-mouthed and prone to reckless behaviour, but...

_Connor wanted more of him._

He couldn’t explain it, but whatever it was… it was magnetic. How could he be so drawn to a man that drove him near insane with the way he skilfully diverged from every logical conclusion to any scenario Connor could muster?

He was infuriating, and exhilarating.

He ran his thumb over Gavin's cheek, feeling his LED brighten as the man’s brow furrowed.

He needed to move.

Carefully, he untangled himself from Gavin. The man grumbled a little in his sleep, before rubbing his face against the pillow Connor had been lying on, settling again.

Sliding on his pyjama bottoms, he glanced around Gavin’s bedroom. He hadn’t managed to get a proper look before, but with the sunrise lighting up the space, it was just as immaculate as the rest of the house, other than the clothes strewn on the floor. 

_Clothes that they’d torn from each other._

He gave an unnecessary sigh. Obviously, he needed to distract _himself_ this morning. 

He gathered the clothes and quietly left the room. 

Wandering down the hall, he could hear Sam’s steady breathing. He peaked into his room, seeing the boy still fast asleep, sprawled out on the bed, duvet kicked over a little. He was clearly not a still sleeper either.

The knowledge that someone intentionally harmed him... it filled Connor with dangerous and unhelpful prompts. But Sam was a child, which meant they had to be smart. If they behaved rashly, Sam would be the one who suffered the consequences, and that was unacceptable. 

Shaking his head, he quickly went inside, lifting Sam’s jeans. He reached into his own bag and pulled out his phone, tucking it under the clothes.

Downstairs, he dumped the clothes on the kitchen floor and his phone on the counter as he was immediately rounded on by the chubby ginger cat, meowing at his feet.

_Things to do._

The mindless tasks would keep his hands busy while he thought through the itinerary of the day.

He quickly fed Gizmo, tossing in some extra treats, before locating the washer dryer in one of the larger lower cupboards. He shoved the clothes inside, saving Sam’s phone from being washed at the last minute. 

He twirled the child's phone in his hand as he turned the machine on.

_**//Samual Garcia Priority Level: High** _

No child deserved what Sam was going through, and while Connor was absolutely certain no harm would come to him under this roof, while he was outside...

He interfaced with the device, adding his own number and Gavin’s. Then, without a second thought, he added his serial number too. He put the phone next to his before starting on the dishes. 

There were two missions on the table today. The first and foremost was Dillon Jones – the man who would potentially lead them to their supplier, and the one most likely harming Sam.

It would be nice to simply take him off the streets and into an interrogation room, but Connor had to assume that the vice detectives had tried that tactic when they had first picked him up.

No. They would have to be far subtler, especially as Sam’s safety was on the line.

Connor fired off a message to Fowler to arrange a meeting with the detectives. The second mission. This one they could get over and done with quickly. 

He didn’t like it. He didn’t want Gavin to have to meet with them again, not while his bruises were still fresh, but at least with _this_ violent man, there wasn’t the added difficulty of a child’s safety. 

In fact, things couldn’t have been simpler.

_//Thick fists and size ten shoes_

Gavin might have felt incapable of fighting back because of his previous relationship with a man who'd wilfully harmed him or because his job was at risk, but Connor had neither of those things to worry about.

Gavin wasn’t going there alone this time.

_**//Gavin Reed Priority Level: High** _

No one would put their hands on him.

It would be interesting to see if they tried. 

He finished the dishes, wiped down the counters, then swiftly cleaned the wooden floors that were muddy from the water balloon fight the day before. His lips twitched upwards at the memory.

The washer dryer beeped and he removed the clothes, folding them and taking Sam’s to his room, slipping his phone back into his hoodie pocket, before returning back downstairs.

Reaching for his own phone, he ran through his short list of contacts.

The lieutenant answered after six rings.

“This better be a goddamn emergency, kid.” Hank’s voice was muffled, probably pressing it into a pillow. “It’s my day off.”

Connor chuckled, pulling himself up onto the kitchen counter. “You don’t have days off. You have Sumo to take care of.” He could hear the dog whining in the background.

“Well, now that he’s heard my voice, he thinks it’s time for food…” he muttered, sullenly. “Thanks for that, Con… Yeah, get off me, I’m coming.”

“Since you’re up, you should really go for a walk,” said Connor. He hoped the lieutenant had done some form of exercise while he’d been away. “Sumo needs to stretch his legs.”

“Pfft, can’t believe you think you can control me from Reed’s,” huffed Hank, but Connor could hear the smile in his voice. “The prick still ‘handling’ you sneaking about his place?”

_Handling him in more ways than one._

Connor cleared his throat needlessly. “I haven’t had to ‘break his legs’ yet, if that’s what you mean.”

“Always knew you were a goddamn snake charmer,” chuckled Hank, shuffling about on the other end. 

“He's not a snake, Hank,” Connor rolled his eyes, pushing himself along the counter so he could lie back, staring at the roof and the underside of the kitchen cupboards. Even those were clean. The detective was meticulous. “He's actually been invaluable in progressing the case.”

“Yeah, Fowler told me about the bet,” said Hank. Connor frowned. “Don’t worry, I played the part of the angry partner and he let me in on your investigation. He doesn’t know you broke the second you walked into the house.”

Connor shook his head silently. “Honestly, that’s become less of a priority…” He sat up again. “We’ve had a complication. There’s a child living with one of our suspects. It doesn’t seem as if his home is safe. He came here in a bad way last night.”

“Shit, Con,” Hank said, concerned. “What do you need? Anything I can do?”

“That’s why I’m calling. Since his parents passed, he has been living with his uncle and adult cousin. We haven’t met the cousin yet, but it’s believed he is a red ice dealer. We _have_ met the uncle, Alexander Jones. He goes by ‘Sandy’. No previous criminal history, nothing to suggest he would be a suspect or that he ever hurt his own son in the past.”

“That we are aware of,” Hank pointed out.

“Exactly,” Connor agreed. “If Sam is being hurt in his home, the likelihood is his cousin is the one doing it, however we can’t rule out the uncle. I’ve only managed to discern that he is currently unemployed but given his living situation, it is doubtful that he has been unemployed for long. He may be independently wealthy, but I can’t confirm that either.”

“And, as a know-it-all android, I bet that’s annoying the ever-living hell out of you.”

Hank, as usual, was correct. “It is,” admitted Connor.

“Well, don’t you worry,” said Hank, with only a tiny bit of smugness. “I’ll do some old school detective work, without the use of a computer for a brain. See if we get anywhere.”

“Your investigative skills are second to none,” Connor commented, genuinely.

“Damn right,” grunted Hank. “I needed to get my lazy ass out of the house anyway. I'll check the archives, make some calls, the usual."

“If you don’t mind-”

“Consider it done,” Hank dismissed. “The kid did the smart thing, going to you two. Reed has this thing with them. They trust him, for what reason I’ll never know. Cole always liked him.”

Connor smiled at that. Recently, Hank had been mentioning Cole more and more, remembering his life rather than focusing on his death. It was good. Healthy. He enjoyed hearing about him.

“I understand. Gavin is good with Sam,” he said thoughtfully.

“Hmm. I’m sure _Gavin_ is,” chuckled Hank, curiously. Connor decided not to pay attention to it. “Right, I’ll grab a shower, take Sumo out and head to the station. I’ll call if I find anything.”

“Thanks Hank. I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he said. "Make sure Reed doesn't do anything stupid. And, keep the kid safe.”

“He'll be safe,” he promised. They would make sure of it.

It was only as he ended the call that he realised he was being watched. 

Gavin was leaning against the archway, messy haired, dressed only in loose joggers, massaging his bruised shoulder with his right hand. “Morning,” he said, looking at him with a small smile. “That Anderson?”

A simple question. Which is why it was strange that it was suddenly followed by a vast variety of obscure prompts, ranging from ‘touch him’ to ‘drag him back upstairs’. 

“It was,” Connor answered, trying to focus. “He’s going to make some phone calls to other precincts, see if we can get any more information on Alexander Jones. My databases aren’t giving me enough.”

The detective nodded. “That’s smart.”

Connor paused for a second, before adding, “I sent a message to Fowler, to arrange a meet with the detectives today.”

Gavin’s smile faded, and he dropped his hand from his shoulder. He nodded again. “Also smart.”

Tapping the side of the counter, Connor found himself at a loss. 

They should talk about the night before. That would be the sensible thing to do, but Connor found himself… wary? The idea that Gavin enjoyed the encounter was enticing, but Connor didn’t want to fool himself. The man could very easily have found it to be cathartic, and nothing more.

The thought made him uncomfortable.

Connor shoved it down.

“You know…” Gavin said slowly, breaking the silence. “I’ve never heard you swear as much as you did last night.” The corner of his lip was raised.

It was as simple as that. Connor rolled his eyes at himself. He really needed to relax. 

“It was very much ‘in the moment’, detective,” smiled Connor, shaking his head. “It won't happen again.”

Gavin shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Which part? The swearing or the other stuff?”

 _Stuff._ That was putting it lightly. Connor could still feel where the detective’s mouth had been hours before… 

Wait, was he worried that _Connor_ was the one who might regret what they had done?

Shit… maybe they were both being idiots.

He tried to keep his face neutral as he questioned, “Stuff?”

“Fuck off. You know what I mean...” Gavin scratched the back of his neck, his face reddening a little.

It was cute.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, detective. Perhaps you can give me a demonstration of what this ‘stuff’ is?” Connor tilted his head to the side, winking at him.

Realisation hit the man, and he dragged a hand down his face with a huff of laughter. “I hate you, you know that?”

“I’m sure you’ve said so once or twice, but I’m starting to doubt it,” Connor smirked.

Gavin shook his head, giving a heavy sigh. He nodded towards the stairs. “Sam?”

There was no doubt that Gavin had already checked in on him, but if he was looking for reassurance, Connor would give it. 

“It’s very early,” said Connor, eyes flickering towards the stairs. “He's still asleep. I washed his clothes and put them in his room for when he wakes up. His phone was in his pocket so I’ve put both of our numbers in it, along with my serial number.”

“Good thinking,” he started, before looking at him curiously. “What would he do with your serial number?”

Of course. Why would the detective know about that? “If he calls it, it will come right through to me,” Connor said, tapping his head. “It will only work if I have the number pre-programmed, but I took care of that.” 

“Your serial number gets through to you?” asked Gavin, sounding surprised. “As in, you can talk to people in your head? Should have known you’d have even more secret superpowers.”

“It’s definitely not a superpower,” Connor chuckled, picking uneasily at his pyjamas. “Only Hank and the DPD have it, for emergencies. I… I don’t like the voices inside my head. It reminds me too much of...” he trailed off.

“Before you became deviant,” guessed Gavin, accurately. “They would control you by speaking to you inside your head? You said they would compel you. Like Amanda?”

Connor’s eyes flashed to him, his mind going fuzzy at the reminder. He’d forgotten he had spoken to the detective about her. “Yes, like her. She had this garden simulation and she used it to draw me in and talk to me…” he faltered once more. 

He shouldn’t be talking about her, as much as he wanted to be truthful. She was buried deep in his mind, along with a _lot_ of other things, a remnant from his past he wished would disappear entirely. Amanda and her calculated words, coaxing her way into his thoughts, his actions, forcing him to-

_//STOP***_

A red wall of Connor’s own creation appeared in his mind. He inhaled deeply, focusing on Gavin instead.

The man pushed himself from the archway. “It makes you that uncomfortable but you’re just giving it to Sam.” He wandered carefully towards him. “You really are a good guy.”

“Sam needs it,” Connor shook his head. “While he’s here, we can keep him safe, but out there, if he’s ever in trouble…”

“No, no. You’re right,” Gavin reached him, resting his hands on top of Connor’s, squeezing them lightly. “He does need it. Doesn’t make you less of a good guy.” He leaned in, placing a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

That contact seemed to be multiplied tenfold after the activities of the night before. Connor’s lips tingled. 

“You’re being oddly nice this morning, detective,” smiled Connor, a little suspicious.

“I actually owe you an apology,” he grimaced.

Ah. There it was. 

Connor sighed. With his ’computer for a brain’, he should have seen this coming a mile away. 

“You don’t have anything more to apologise for,” he said quietly, looking away, his LED no doubt giving away his disappointment. “You did that enough yesterday.” 

“No, I really fucking do,” Gavin said, touching his face and bringing his attention back to him. He was... grinning. “You’re not vain, are you?”

What?

“Not especially,” Connor said, confused.

“Hmm,” Gavin nodded, pressing his lips together, leaning his hands on the counter at either side of Connor, looking up at him. “So, you won’t have looked in a mirror this morning.”

His attention wavered as those incredible grey eyes stared into his. This close, he could see the darker flecks in them. They were bright, lively and a little devious- 

“Con…,” snorted Gavin, ducking his head. “Man, you’re...” He seemed to be having trouble containing himself. “Ah fuck it, you're fucking covered in hickeys.” He broke into a fit of laughter. 

Connor blinked. That was not the response he thought-

Wait, what?! 

“That’s not possible…” Connor started. Was it?

Clearly trying his best to smother his amusement, the detective turned to dig around in the same drawer that he’d pulled his cigarettes from. This time, he pulled out a small foldable mirror. 

Connor snatched it out of his hands, looking at his face first, then his neck. 

He couldn’t miss it.

His neck was covered in bright blue blemishes. Those were _definitely_ not there before. “What the…”

He let the skin over his neck fade, his nerve lattice flattening against his white chassis.

The cluster of nerves at one of his ridges, nerves that _should_ have been almost invisible, were now a series of thin blue lines, tiny fractures from where Gavin had been last night.

_Broken._

“You damaged me,” Connor snapped the mirror shut, glaring dangerously at the man in front of him. 

“Hey, you fucking started it!” Gavin laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “In my defence, you gave me your full consent. You said so _several_ times.” 

He gave an amused sigh, walking back into his space, resting his warm hands on Connor's hips, thumbs running over his waist. “I think you even said ‘keep doing that’ when I was right about… here.” He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against the thin blue nerves and the white chassis underneath. 

Connor tried his best to maintain his annoyance, but his mind was too busy focusing on Gavin's hands and lips.

He really was an infuriating human.

“I wonder if it looks the same here,” Gavin breathed against his neck, his hand meandering from his waist down to his thigh, his thumb finding the other area he’d paid so much attention to a few hours before. 

Connor inhaled deeply as the contact made his mind replay the activities. He wanted to press Gavin’s hand into the spot. His ‘drag him back upstairs’ prompt hit the top of his list. 

His self-control appeared to be slipping.

Letting his skin reactivate fully, he placed the mirror to the side and pushed the human away. 

“I suppose I should thank you,” shrugged Connor, ignoring the damage for the moment. It would fade away on its own in a day or two and he’d really, really enjoy figuring out a way to get back at the detective. 

This ‘mind trick’ would require a lot of thought…

“For damaging you?” Gavin looked at him sceptically. 

Sadly, the revenge would have to wait. 

“For forgoing your own pleasure to focus on me instead,” said Connor, sincerely. The damaged nerves aside, he had enjoyed himself. “You very easily could have said nothing.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “I _tried_ to ‘forgo my own pleasure’,” he reminded him, “but you were an eager fucking android. Not that I’m complaining. We definitely needed to get that out of our systems.” 

Then he paused, looking at him apprehensively. “Might not have been our smartest move though. I mean, what, we’ve only been speaking to each other in full fucking sentences for less than a week? We probably shouldn’t be making things weird.”

That made an unsatisfying amount of sense.

“Do you feel weird?” Connor asked, carefully.

“Well,” muttered Gavin, with an awkward shrug, reaching out to touch Connor’s thigh, giving it a small squeeze. “It isn’t even six in the morning and I feel turned on right now. That’s pretty fucking weird.”

_//Gavin is **very** energetic_

Connor couldn’t help the mischievous smile on his face at the knowledge.

“Sam is asleep,” he said slowly, raking his eyes over the man. “We have nowhere to be at the moment.”

Gavin stared at him, distractedly licking his lips. “Right…”

“Right,” repeated Connor, waiting.

The pause was almost as infuriating as he was.

“We'll have to make this quick,” smirked Gavin, gripping Connor’s neck and pulling him into a heated kiss.

_Finally._

Connor clutched Gavin’s face, as the man slid his tongue past his lips, Connor's overwhelmed sensors quickly acclimating to the intrusion, nerves buzzing excitedly as Gavin’s arms enveloped him.

He could feel every touch of his unique fingerprints pressing into his bare skin. The only fingerprints he had ever felt the need to have on him. 

The man pulled at his waist, closing the gap between them until Gavin's warm, naked torso was flush against Connor’s.

Skin on skin, Connor couldn't control himself. His thighs squeezed around the detective’s waist, his hips urging forward as the man flattened a hand against his lower back, holding him firmly in place, pressing himself against Connor.

The need that followed was instantaneous. 

He wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder, letting his other hand drift into his hair, gripping into it harder than necessary, enjoying the moan it always seemed to elicit from him. 

_//Drag him back upstairs**_

No. No time.

Trying not to break contact with him, Connor tugged at his clothes, stripping Gavin of what little he had been wearing. The man easily kicked the joggers away, pressing himself back to him, dampening Connor’s clothes with pre-release. 

“You know what I really want to do to you?” Gavin grinned against his mouth, sliding his hands under Connor's pyjamas and gripping him hard against him.

“Tell me,” he demanded between kisses, as his voice began to fill with static, electricity buzzing through him. 

The overstimulation, the _excitement_ , was affecting his vocal unit once more.

“This.” 

Gavin tore his mouth away, pulling the waistband of Connor’s clothes just enough before ducking down and swallowing him whole. 

“Shit!” exclaimed Connor, not expecting the sudden heat surrounding him. The detective pulled upwards, sucking as he went and Connor shuddered. He clasped Gavin’s hair, tightly, revelling when the man’s moan vibrated around him. “Gavin!”

He covered his own mouth with his free hand, stifling the noises he was making. He tilted his head back, simply enjoying the sensation of Gavin’s mouth on him, the scratch of his stubble on his thigh, over and over again, feeling the intensity building inside of him...

“Shit, stop,” he hissed, tugging at the man’s hair, breathing hard as his cooling systems desperately tried to keep up.

Gavin stopped instantly, pulling away from him. He looked between Connor’s dick and his face, arching an eyebrow. “It’s safe, isn’t it?”

Connor laughed weakly at that, staring down at him. “There are easier ways to kill you, detective.”

“I’m sure there fucking is,” grinned Gavin, straightening back up and kissing Connor again, reaching down to help Connor rid himself of his own clothes, until he was bare and pressing against Gavin. As much as he’d enjoyed what was happening before, he wanted, no, _he needed_ , more. 

“Connor...?” Gavin questioned in the same tone he’d used the previous night.

“If you ask me if I’m sure again, I will definitely knock you unconscious,” Connor said fast, wrapping his arms around him.

He could feel the man smile as he deepened the kiss.

Gavin's fingers gripped into him as they travelled down Connor’s sides, making him shiver, before they shifted him, dragging him forward and suddenly, Connor could feel that hardness pressing against him.

“Gavin,” he groaned impatiently, wrapping his leg around the man’s waist. He needed to feel _him_ again. The wait was driving him crazy.

He kissed away from his mouth. “Eager fucking android,” he grinned against his ear, sinking his teeth into his neck. Then he pushed inside…

"Yes!" breathed Connor. This was exactly what he wanted. 

Gavin held him, his arms surrounding him, but it was slow. Too slow. Connor tightened his legs around the man’s hips until the hot pressure was filling him completely. He exhaled, letting his head fall back against the cupboard behind him, completely pleased. 

“Connor, shit,” hissed the detective, his breath hot against Connor’s skin. 

He moved from Connor’s neck, grabbing his chin and pulling his face down, and those ravenous grey eyes bore into him before Gavin leant up, capturing his mouth with his own. 

It was fierce, _desperate_ , and Connor happily lost himself in it, clinging onto Gavin as the man thrust into him.

A hand slid down his chest, the pads of Gavin's fingers circling his thirium pump. 

“Gavin!” he groaned as pleasure shot through his nerves, firing over his skin. Every bio-component burned inside him as thirium pulsed through his body, his internal cooling systems working hard to keep up.

He smothered himself in Gavin’s mouth, their kisses becoming wilder and wilder as the detective picked up the pace, lowering his hand to take hold of Connor.

Connor gasped as Gavin’s hand moved over him and he pulled away to bury his face in the detective’s neck, gripping into the man’s hair once more. 

Suddenly, he wasn’t on the counter anymore. Gavin pulled him away, one arm under Connor, holding him as if he weighed nothing, and Connor locked his legs around him, his hips rocking to meet Gavin’s ferocious movements.

He pulled Gavin back by his hair and crushed his mouth against his, biting down hard on Gavin’s lip until his sensors recognised a trace of blood.

Groaning loudly, Gavin shoved his tongue into Connor’s mouth, his hips losing all control.

_//**_

Connor’s processors stuttered as a flurry of errors danced in front of his vision, LED spinning bright. He held onto Gavin tightly, currents charging over his skin, through his nerves.

“Gav…!” his shout of release was barely muffled against the detective lips. He was shaking, his mind thrown into an excited frenzy as it processed the overstimulation, and all Connor could do was revel in the impossible heat pouring from the man’s body, hips pushing tirelessly against him.

Gavin’s mouth left his and he let out a fierce growl against Connor’s neck. He wrapped both arms around him, pressing him chest to chest. 

The pulsing of Gavin inside him was overwhelming, as the man continued to thrust until…

“Fuck, Con!” he growled, coming hard, and Connor could feel every single twitch of his quivering body.

_Incredible._

Gavin's hips jutted a few more times before, breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead on Connor’s shoulder, his arms still holding him tightly to his chest.

Connor pressed his temple against the detective’s damp hair, his entire body vibrating as his thirium pump struggled to bring itself back under control. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, catching their breaths, coming back to reality.

Eventually, the man lifted his head and Connor took in every detail, from his deep red blush to his half-lidded eyes. 

_//Backup image saved**_

Then, Gavin kissed him softly, pulling out of him and letting Connor’s feet return safely to the floor. His hands fell to Connor's naked waist, pulling him into him, refusing an inch of distance.

Connor deepened the kiss only slightly, caressing the man's cheeks, before resting his forehead against his, smiling contentedly. A quiet humming noise from his cooling systems was all that filled the air as he began to relax.

Gavin laughed softly, in disbelief. “Con…" he started, in almost a whisper. "What the fuck are we doing?” 

Connor tugged gently at his ear. “Perhaps you should have paid more attention in your sex education classes,” he joked quietly, closing his eyes, enjoying the moment. 

Chuckling a little harder, Gavin shook his head against Connor’s. “You think they teach this in schools?”

Probably not, but Connor didn't know how to respond. He couldn't explain any of this either. 

"I don’t know what we’re doing,” he answered, honestly. “But I _do_ know that we should definitely do that again.”

“You're fucking insatiable,” Gavin laughed breathlessly, pressing kisses into Connor’s cheek, then against his ear, before whispering low, “You remember I’m only human, right?”

Connor hadn’t meant right this second. Even _he_ needed time. But he loved that it’s where Gavin’s mind went first. “I’m sure you could keep up,” he teased, leaning his head back as the detective continued to kiss down his neck. “Besides, I owe you a distraction.”

“You’ve done enough,” Gavin started, then he pulled away, his eyes locking onto Connor's, understanding the meaning behind his words. “But yeah. We should definitely do that too. Doesn’t work exactly the same the other way around though. Human, and all that.”

Connor smirked. “I’m a fast learner. I'm surprised you couldn't tell,” he winked, giving him a light kiss. 

Gavin nuzzled into Connor's shoulder. “Why did I waste so much time before apologising to you?”

Enclosing the man fully in his arms, he smiled. “I don’t know, but now I need to apologise.”

“What the fuck for?” he exhaled, running his hands softly over Connor’s back. Connor committed the action to memory.

“I told you that I preferred kissing you to knocking you unconscious,” Connor said cheekily. He couldn’t help it. He was happy holding onto this stupidly brash human. “I much prefer this.”

He pressed a kiss into Gavin’s hair, and the man gave a contented sigh. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost inaudibly, his hands tightening around his waist. Connor was sure Gavin never meant for him to hear. “Me too.”

*

Gavin would have loved nothing more than to drag Connor to the shower with him, but the five-minute hot water limit (that he still hadn’t figured out how to fix) would have made it impossible for them to properly enjoy it. 

Plus, they had a busy day ahead of them. And those asses weren’t going to kick themselves.

The energy that had been close to making him burst the night before had settled into pure resolve. Much better and much more dangerous for whatever asshole planned on getting in his way.

He washed up quickly, wrapping a towel around his waist, leaving the bathroom to find Connor already in the living room, fully dressed in jeans and a pale blue t-shirt.

It was a good colour on him. It particularly highlighted the ridiculous state of his neck. 

Connor didn’t seem to give a shit though. That gave Gavin a weird sense of pride.

Even the dull pain in his shoulder was worth every fucking second.

The android stared intensely at his phone, twirling a purple pebble between his fingers. 

Gavin watched him, completely captivated.

Fuck.

He had it bad.

Really fucking bad.

The ‘good relationships' he’d had in the past... none of them had felt a thing like this.

Never in his life had he found himself unable to keep his hands off of someone. They’d literally fucked in the kitchen less than half an hour ago and he still wanted nothing more than to be holding him again, feeling an unbelievable _need_ to be near him, to be touching him.

Even now, he was happy to stand and watch the guy play with a fucking stone…

Fuck, what was happening to him?

“Gavin,” Connor said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. The android glanced upwards. “Sam.”

Gavin’s eyes went to the stairs. “Shit.”

He didn’t wait for an explanation. He sped up the stairs, but the window of the spare room was already open. He looked out and Sam was walking over the grass. 

That fucking kid… 

“Oi, you could have used the front door, you know,” called Gavin, as light-heartedly as he could, leaning against the frame.

Sam stopped, looking up at him, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging. “It’s more fun this way,” he grinned.

Gavin shook his head. 

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t exactly force the kid to stay. The bruises were obviously something he was used to. 

The thought made him sick. 

“You come back here whenever you want, you hear me? Any time. Day or night. No questions asked.” He had to make sure Sam knew this was a safe place.

The boy nodded, a soft smile coming over his face. 

“Connor put our numbers in your phone,” he said finally. “His serial number too. That should be at the top of your contacts. Hit the green button three times and you’ll get through directly to him.”

“I know how a fucking phone works, I’ve been using one since I was four,” he huffed lightly, but he took his phone out and pushed some buttons, his eyebrows raising. He looked up, gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Just use it, Sam,” Gavin said seriously. Then he added playfully, “How many times will you press the red button?”

“None,” he complained with a smile, rolling his eyes. “It’s the green one and it’s three times. Promise!” He shoved the phone back into his pocket and darted off.

Fucking whirlwind…

Gavin swallowed back an anxious lump in his throat as he watched the kid leave. 

Everything about Sam reminded Gavin of his younger years, and that was fucking terrifying. 

“Gavin,” said Connor, the gravity in his voice catching Gavin off-guard.

He turned around, his eyes following the android’s. 

“What the-“

A tiny clear bag sat on top of the files on Gavin’s desk... and it was filled with red fucking powder, a tiny hourglass emblem in the corner. 

That wasn’t fucking there before.

Connor was already opening it, touching a finger to the contents inside before resting it against his tongue. “Red ice,” he confirmed. “Same strain we’re looking for.”

Gavin stared at him in disbelief.

“It appears Sam came here with more than bruises.”

“Holy shit,” Gavin dragged a hand down his face, looking back out of the window. “He’s leading us to Jones. I knew that kid was smart but _fuck..._ ”

Connor sealed the bag, putting it in his pocket. “Get dressed. The faster we get this case solved, the faster we can get him out of whatever situation he is in. He’s asking for help. Today, we’ll make sure he’s safe. That’s our priority.”

_Our priority._

He had to remember he wasn’t in this alone. Connor was here.

“Let’s fucking do this.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: Make sure Reed doesn't do anything stupid.  
> Connor, laughing:..... oh, you're serious?  
> Gavin, playing with scissors:.....
> 
>  
> 
> Sam, casually kicking about with a tiny bag of hard drugs in his sock: I know how to use a fucking phone...  
> Gavin:...  
> Connor: //
> 
>  
> 
> It's time to get back outside and kick those asses!
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Want to give her a shock?” he glanced at the android, winking.
> 
> Shaking his head, Connor spoke sternly. “We should be keeping a low profile, but…” his voice lightened, “it’s unlikely she’ll miss us now. It would be smart do something a little less conspicuous than just sitting here. What do you have in mind?”
> 
> Stupid question for such a clever robot.
> 
> Gavin swiftly left the driver’s seat, straddling Connor at the passenger side, exactly where she would be passing. He grinned down at him. “What the fuck do you think?”
> 
> He took Connor’s chin in his free hand and pulled him into an entirely inappropriate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me. 
> 
> I felt like I should cut it down, but I didn't want to scrimp on the question game and I didn't want to end it earlier so...
> 
> :D

Chapter 12

Gavin tapped the steering wheel impatiently, fidgeting in his sling. The bandaged tape was irritating his shoulder. 

What were they doing? This was so fucking stupid.

“This is so fucking stupid,” he voiced out loud.

“This community has a church, a temple and a mosque. There is a high probability that they worship at the weekend,” Connor stated. “Would you rather we knock on the front door? Ask Dillon to come quietly for yet another small bag of drugs he could have had for personal use? It’s not enough.”

That fucking android.

He was right though.

“But you don’t _know_ that, which makes this fucking stupid,” huffed Gavin, leaning back in the seat, trying to cross his arms to no avail. He growled in frustration. “And I'm bored.”

“You’ve had enough distractions in the last twenty-four hours, detective,” said Connor, staring out of the window.

Distract… Oh.

Heat came to Gavin’s face and he pressed his tongue against the broken skin inside his mouth, where Connor had been a bit too...

He coughed. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Connor smirked at him. “I’m aware.”

Gavin had to force himself not to smile. 

The guy was a nightmare. A pain in the ass. An absolute walking frustration. 

Gavin was so glad he was here.

“Whatever,” he said, leaning forward and resting his chin on the steering wheel. “Find another way to entertain us then.”

“We could continue the question game,” Connor shrugged, before muttering, “if it will stop you from being such a brat.”

Gavin snorted at the jibe. “Thought of another inappropriately heavy question?” 

“Maybe a few,” the android said carefully, keeping his eyes on Sam’s house.

Ominous, but it wasn’t as if they had much else to do, and he was losing his mind stuck inside the car. “Fine, go for it.”

Connor tucked a leg under himself, getting comfy. 

Shit. What had he let himself in for?

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” 

Wow. “What the fuck is this, a first date?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be, detective,” winked Connor. “Answer the question.”

Gavin shuffled in his seat. This was usually the kind of question he'd make an excuse to not answer, or just plain lied about, but this wasn’t a normal situation. And he didn’t feel like lying.

“I dunno,” he started. Then he tried again. “None, or lots, depending on your fucking perspective.”

Tucking a hand into his pocket, Connor pulled out the purple pebble he’d been playing with for his entire stay, twirling it over his fingers, waiting.

_Fucking…_

“No biological siblings, that I’m aware of,” he said finally. “Don’t know my dad and my mom died when I was six.”

Connor caught the stone in his hand and frowned at him. 

Huh. He thought that was common knowledge.

“Went into the system and was bounced around until I aged out,” he shrugged, trying to downplay that weird aspect of his life. “Lived with a lot of other kids. Changed homes so many times I can barely remember any of their names. Don't know if they even count but…” He trailed off.

“I see,” Connor said slowly. “I didn’t know you were so young. That must have been difficult.”

“Oh, this really is a first date,” Gavin grumbled, tapping the steering wheel again. 

“In a car, in the middle of a street, staking out a potential drug dealer's residence,” Connor rolled his eyes, but smiled softly. “This is not where I would imagine a first date, but for you...”

Gavin raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? And where would your ideal first date be?”

So maybe he was genuinely curious. 

Dates weren’t something that Gavin had particularly enjoyed in the past. The restaurant, the awkward conversation, the tranquil setting that was always a bit too quiet for someone who wasn’t exactly mellow… 

It had always been a recipe for an uncomfortable night.

In his last relationship, they hadn’t even bothered with dates. Although that might have been more to do with the other guy’s prevalence for bars and coke rather than the fear of intimacy that Gavin seemed to have.

Sitting in a car with Connor? It would definitely qualify as one of his better dates.

If this was a date.

Which it wasn’t.

Connor looked at him curiously. “Is that your question?”

Shit. “No,” he said quickly. He wasn’t going to waste it. He would find that one out by himself. Maybe. Fuck.

“Then, it’s your turn,” Connor leaned back smugly. 

Ugh, he was annoying. It didn’t help that Gavin was so incredibly attracted to him that he was struggling to keep himself in check. Even his cocky attitude was hot.

“Right, yeah, my turn,” Gavin said, trying and failing to focus.

He couldn’t stop thinking about this morning, the moans in his ear, Connor’s body trembling as he held him, the smooth skin under his hands.

The odd sense of peace he felt after it was all over, when Connor wrapped his arms around him, kissing his head, fingers playing with the short hair on the back of his neck. Was that how intimacy was supposed to feel? 

If it was, then maybe…

“If you wait too long, do I get another turn?” asked Connor, tilting his head in that fucking adorable way, the blue blemishes dotted over his neck on show.

“Fuck off, dipshit. Give me a minute.”

Connor chuckled quietly to himself, flicking the stone in the air. 

There was a question that had been playing on his mind since their chat this morning. Amanda. He wanted to know more but from how Connor had reacted when he'd brought her up, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Hm, something inappropriately heavy?” asked Connor. He was staring at him, holding the stone in between his fingers, tapping it against his knee.

“Well...” Fuck it, if he didn’t want to answer, he didn't have to. “I want to ask you about before. When did you first start questioning the voices in your head?”

Connor’s relaxed expression faltered.

Yip, this was a mistake. “Yeah, that isn’t a fair one. You don’t have to-"

A finger pressed against his mouth. Connor smiled. “It’s inappropriately heavy, but it is fair. I'll try.”

Gavin shifted his face, quickly catching Connor's finger between his teeth, giving it a playful nip.

“Ow!” Connor snatched his hand away.

“Android’s don’t feel pain,” mocked Gavin proudly, repeating the android's own words.

Scowling, Connor crossed his arms, thinking. He sighed.

“Looking back on those days, it's like...” he turned fully towards him, and Gavin took over watching Sam's door. “It’s hard to describe. Most of the time, I couldn’t tell something was wrong, other times I could, although it was filled with confusion.

“Imagine walking around but you can’t control the direction, your lips are moving but the words are someone else’s. And when you _could_ control the direction and the words, you were constantly being watched and judged and you felt like you had to make the choice they wanted you to make, or...” He swallowed, leaning back in his seat.

Gavin stayed quiet.

“To begin with, it was easy. My first mission was to protect a little girl from a deviant named Daniel. He experienced emotional shock when he discovered he was going to be replaced. He was prepared to shoot Emma or jump from the roof of the building. I lied to him, tricked him, then I watched him get shot, like it was nothing. My mission was successful. It was that simple.”

Emma Phillips. 

The little girl taken hostage by the family’s domestic android. That was back when those stories were just starting to come out. It had been all over the news.

It was huge.

“I remember that,” Gavin said, slowly. “The Park Avenue apartments... officer Wilson was shot by the deviant. He almost died,” Gavin looked at Connor, but he gave nothing away. Didn’t matter. Gavin could guess the rest. “He said an android saved his life... He wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks afterwards. Should have known that it was you. I didn’t even think.” The guy had come back to work, his entire world view changed. “If your mission was just to save the Phillips kid, which part did Wilson figure into it?”

“He was passed out on the floor, losing blood,” Connor frowned, shrugging. “I had to help him."

Gavin snickered, shaking his head. It was so fucking ironic. Back then, Gavin was trying to protect the other officers from the androids threatening their jobs and yet, even as a machine, fresh off the fucking production line, Connor was saving their lives.

He was questioning the voices in his head right from the fucking start.

“You know what I think?” Gavin said. “I think you’re just like Sam.”

Connor raised his eyebrows. “How is that?”

“You were in a bad situation you had no control over, but in those small instances where you could do _something_ , you did. Like Sam leaving the bag of red ice. He took a chance. He did the right thing. The android had to die, that was 'the mission', but you didn’t have to save Wilson’s life, right? That was a chance you had. _Your_ fucking choice.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” murmured Connor.

“I do now,” said Gavin, surprising himself by admitting it. “But I despised everything about androids then. Only saw you as pretty little robots coming to steal our jobs.”

“ _Pretty_ little robots?” teased Connor, with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

_More than fucking pretty…_

“Yeah, pretty fucking annoying, dipshit,” he mumbled, pushing Connor’s amused face away from him. He inhaled deeply. “But I’m serious. You were forced into doing things you wouldn’t do now, but when you had a chance, you used your superpowers for good. Fucking hell, Con, you saved one of us.”

“One of us,” Connor repeated quietly.

“Yeah, you're one of us, _detective_ ,” Gavin confirmed with a smirk. "Still a dipshit, though."

Connor glanced at him, his soft smile full of warmth, and Gavin felt… something. And maybe they looked at each other a little too long. Again.

Connor turned back to the window, clearing his throat. “Everything after that first mission got harder and harder,” he continued. “Amanda tried pressuring me into certain behaviours while I was trapped in a series of battles in my mind, with Hank at the centre.”

“Anderson?” questioned Gavin, running a hand through his hair. He turned the air conditioning up.

Connor nodded. “There were times I had the opportunity to capture or _neutralise_ a deviant, but I knew that it would either put Hank at risk or make him think… less of me. I could see that what I was trying to do was wrong, because _he_ thought it was wrong. I came to care more for him and his opinions and less about the objective. Amanda seemed to know that, she…”

Connor went quiet, his expression going dark. 

And that’s where they should stop.

“I don’t know who this Amanda is, or what the fuck she did to you,” said Gavin, shaking his head, “but controlling you, making you do things you didn’t want to do, judging your choice of friends? She sounds like one hell of an overbearing shitty parent.”

That seemed to knock Connor out of his thoughts. He gave a short chuckle, pressing the pebble into his knee. “I suppose she was.”

Gavin reached over, slipping his hand over Connor’s hand, stealing the stone from between his fingers. “Not a fucking doubt in my mind. Had a few of those growing up. Tried to change my ‘negative’ behaviour through sheer force of will.”

He flicked the pebble upwards and Connor snatched it back out of the air.

“Let me guess,” Connor smirked, twirling the stone again, “nobody’s will could match yours?”

“Yeah, well, that’s when they stopped using will and started…” Gavin pressed his lips together with a frown. Shit, he was getting far too comfortable. 

“Using other methods,” Connor finished, not even bothering to make it sound like a question. 

He opened his mouth to speak, to try and steer away from the conversation, but movement in the street caught his attention. 

“Great. Liz,” Connor said disdainfully, as the woman jogged into sight, stroller in hand. 

Gavin had never been happier to see that woman. Well, maybe ‘happy' was a strong word.

It wasn’t as if he felt he couldn’t share those stories with Connor, but that was the problem. Usually it took several years of friendship and copious amounts of beer. So far only Chen had managed to get the full story out of him. And here he was ready to share... 

No, doesn’t matter. He wasn’t going to think too hard about it.

Besides, it was definitely time for some mischief. The conversation had been getting way too heavy for this early in the morning. 

“Want to give her a shock?” he glanced at the android, winking.

Shaking his head, Connor spoke sternly. “We should be keeping a low profile, but…” his voice lightened, “it’s unlikely she’ll miss us now. It would be smart do something a little less conspicuous than just sitting here. What do you have in mind?”

Stupid question for such a clever robot.

Gavin swiftly left the driver’s seat, straddling Connor at the passenger side, exactly where she would be passing. He grinned down at him. “What the fuck do you think?”

He took Connor’s chin in his free hand and pulled him into an entirely inappropriate kiss. 

He half expected Connor to shove him away. After all, this definitely wasn’t professional and couldn’t be in line with the ‘social protocols’ he had been built with, deviant or not, right?

Wrong. 

Connor pushed into it, pulling Gavin close to him, a short moan vibrating against Gavin's mouth.

The part of Gavin that had thought this was going to be a hilarious prank on a prick of a neighbour left him instantly.

 _Fucking insatiable._

But like hell was he going to complain. And fuck Liz. If they wanted to give her a shock, they might as well make it a real one.

Shifting his legs into a comfortable position, he found himself rolling his hips down in Connor's lap, pressing on his face, kissing him deeply.

He would let the guy fuck him right here, right now, if he thought he would-

Connor dug his fingers under the waist of his jeans, gripping his ass and pulling him against him, lifting his hips to meet Gavin’s. 

“Fuck,” he growled against Connor’s mouth. He hadn’t expected that. Shit, he hadn’t expected any of this. His hand slid up Connor’s arm, over his neck and into his soft hair, deepening the kiss even more-

_Shit, Liz._

A sudden knock on the window threw Gavin from his dirty thoughts, but apparently not Connor.

As Gavin tore himself away from Connor long enough to push the button to let the window down a little, Connor nuzzled his face into Gavin’s neck, his teeth biting into him, shoving his hands deeper under his jeans, massaging his skin.

“Liz, what a surprise.” He tried to sound like this was nothing unusual. 

“This is a public street, officer,” she said humourlessly.

“It’s ‘detective’, Liz,” said Gavin, his voice quivering as Connor tongued the soft flesh between his neck and shoulder. “And we were just kissing.”

“It looks like you are about to do a lot more than that.” She was trying to hold an important air, but it was failing as Connor kissed up Gavin’s throat, ready to catch his mouth.

But he suddenly turned his head. “Not while you’re standing here, Liz,” he huffed, removing one hand from Gavin’s jeans. “So, if you don’t mind…” He pushed the button on the door and let the window roll up. 

“Holy fuck, Con,” he laughed shakily at the appalled look on Liz’s face, as Connor pressed kisses over his jaw and face. “I hate to say it, but she’s right. It’s broad fucking daylight. We can’t actually do this.” Why was he having to tell him this? Gavin was supposed to be the impulsive one, not Connor.

Still, the idea that _he_ was the one causing Connor to lose himself made his gut tighten in excitement.

Connor groaned in frustration, rubbing his head on Gavin’s shoulder before he untucked both of his hands, leaning up and putting the window down again. Liz stood on the other side, her arms folded tight over her chest, lips pursed.

“I apologise, Liz,” he said politely, although Gavin could hear how forced it was. “That was very rude of me. I seem to have become caught up in the moment. I’m sure you’ve had similar times with Frank.”

“I would never…” she started, affronted, but then she seemed to think better of it.

Choosing to ignore him, her attention shot to Gavin instead. “You should know better. There are children living on this street, little Sam lives only over there. Imagine if he’d witnessed this,” then she lowered her voice. “And, to make it worse, with an _android_.”

Ugh. She was an awful person, but the prank definitely worked so...

“I know. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty face,” said Gavin, dreamily, stroking the back of Connor’s neck.

Connor snorted, dropping his head to Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin’s stroking fingers nipped him instead, a nonverbal ‘control yourself’.

“Sorry, Liz,” Gavin smiled, trying hard not to laugh. “We’ll make sure never to poison Sam’s mind with this terrible behaviour.”

Liz stiffened, her eyes wandering over to Sam’s house, shaking her head. Then her tone changed. “Poison his mind… to be honest, I doubt it would make a difference. You’d best get used to his face. You’ll be seeing it a lot in a few years, in your line of work.”

“Excuse me?” snapped Gavin, losing his humour. Connor lifted his head. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Liz either didn’t hear the threat in his tone, or thought the gossip was more important. “Well, since his parents passed, he seems to think that gives him a right to behave however he wants. I don’t know how his uncle puts up with him. Wouldn’t have been me, let me tell you. I’d have sent him straight into the care of the state. It’s where he’ll end up anyway.”

Fuck. Her.

Gavin stamped down the urge to throw open the door and knock the woman out.

Fowler would probably frown on that. 

Connor gave a heavy sigh. 

“Liz, you don’t seem to have a grasp of basic humanity, and unfortunately it is far too late to teach you. I hope you raise your children to be better people than their parents have turned out, otherwise I have no doubt we’ll be seeing _them_ in the future,” Connor said, matter-of-factly. 

“Anyway, we have a busy day ahead of us, and now we have _this_ out of our systems,” he squeezed Gavin’s ass, which Gavin assumed was for the brilliant look of horror on Liz’s face, “we should be getting a move on. It’s always lovely to speak to you. Perhaps we’ll see you at the next neighbourhood event.” 

He pressed the button and rolled the window back up.

Gavin laughed as she looked daggers at the android, before she swiftly took hold of the stroller and jogged away.

“Do you think we shocked her enough?” Connor asked, a mischievous grin on his face, absently stroking Gavin’s lower back, under his t-shirt.

“You probably shouldn’t have said that,” Gavin said, shaking his head in disbelief. “If she makes a complaint-”

“What would she complain about?” chuckled Connor. “We’re technically off-duty, and being rude isn’t a crime. Evidently. Even if she does, my record can take the hit. I’ll make sure yours doesn’t.” He placed a small kiss on Gavin's collarbone as he stared into the car door mirror, watching the woman until she was out of sight.

Gavin swallowed hard at the android's oddly protective behaviour, not even bothering to keep the smile off of his face. His skin was on fire where Connor's thumbs were, stroking from his hip to his spine, and he'd never felt calmer. He'd never felt so fucking comfortable.

He had it fucking bad.

Brushing the hair from Connor’s forehead, he drew the android’s attention, brown eyes flickering between his.

Then he lowered his hand to trace Connor's bottom lip.

_So fucking bad._

Connor watched him for a few seconds, lips parting ever so slightly, his face softening. He leaned up carefully, hovering for a moment before Gavin closed the distance, kissing him once more.

It was slow and so fucking gentle. The kind of kiss that Gavin had never initiated before, never wanted to, but now…

He slid his tongue past Connor's lips, savouring the sweet taste, running his fingers through his soft, dark hair before resting them on the nape of his neck.

His heart beat faster in his chest when Connor's tongue pressed against his and those slender hands came up to cup his face, thumbs delicately caressing his cheeks.

The tender touch made him shiver.

There was no urgency this time, no rush. Not about sex or distractions or idiot neighbours. 

He might not know what this was, but he knew he wanted to be _near him_.

Fuck, he couldn’t imagine _not_ wanting to be near him.

But when the case finished…

Gavin pulled away, feeling Connor’s light breath on his wet lips. “Con, I…”

But Connor pulled him back in for a soft kiss to the lips, then another to his forehead. He looked up at him, apologetically. “I’m afraid this will have to wait. It’s time.”

Time?

He turned to look over his shoulder. The front door of Sam’s house was open.

Shit. The plan. 

The stupid fucking plan.

Gavin grudgingly removed himself from Connor’s lap, collapsing back down in the driver's seat.

Sam darted out first, one hand shoved in the pocket of his black trousers, the other tugging at his shirt collar.

Next followed a young man, dressed similarly. _Dillon Jones._

As tall as his dad, skinny, thick-rimmed glasses on his face and a phone in his hand, tapping away. 

Then came Alexander Jones, shutting and locking the door behind him. He clicked his fingers at the other two, saying something Gavin couldn’t hear and they bundled into the small car.

Connor stared at him, a look of bright superiority on his fucking beautiful face.

“Oh, fuck off,” scoffed Gavin. “You got lucky.”

The android raised an eyebrow.

“Fucking… fine. You win,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “Shall we get a fucking move on or do you want to gloat some more?”

“I didn’t say a word, detective.”

Connor earned that punch to the arm.

*

“I know this is the best plan we've got,” said Gavin, as they pushed through the back gate, “but it’s still a fucking terrible one. I’ve mentioned that, right?”

“You've been saying it out loud for the last hour, Gavin,” muttered Connor. 

“Well, if this backfires, remember that.”

He wasn't wrong. With more time perhaps they could have come up with a proper strategy. As it stood, they needed more information and fast. It was an _unconventional_ method but hopefully it would at least point them in the right direction.

The garden was similarly styled to Gavin's, albeit a little less well kept, but it had shrubbery high enough to keep them hidden from view. Unfortunately, the lock on the front door was an old style one, rather than a new one that Connor could have easily bypassed.

“Step back, barbie,” smirked Gavin, pulling the small bag he’d taken from the glove compartment of the car from his back pocket. “These houses don’t have digital locks, unless someone has specifically upgraded.”

“What are you doing, detective?” Connor asked curiously, leaning against the door, as the man knelt in front of him, pulling lock-picking pins from the bag.

“I wasn’t always the upstanding member of society you see before you,” the man slurred, with two pins between his teeth. “Changed houses so much as a kid, used to lose my keys a lot. Breaking in caused less problems than admitting the keys were gone.”

“Gavin Reed, the tiny criminal,” chuckled Connor.

“Is that a dig at my height, tinman?” smirked Gavin. “I noticed that Anderson is taller than you. Didn’t create you to be the biggest and best at everything, did they?”

The door clicked and Gavin pushed it open. They waited, staring at each other.

No alarm.

Perfect.

“Very impressive,” said Connor genuinely, before gently pushing the man away from the door. “I won’t be long.”

“Hold up,” argued Gavin, almost tripping down the steps. “You’re not going in there alone.”

He should have known Gavin wouldn't make this easy. 

“I am,” stated Connor. “You’re already on a warning and one of us needs to be a lookout, in case this does ‘backfire’.”

“What the fuck does my warning have to do with anything? We’re not getting fucking caught! If that’s even a possibility-”

“It won’t be while you’re watching the house. This isn’t negotiable, Gavin. Get out of here.”

Gavin shook his head. “No, just fucking no. This idea is stupid enough without us splitting up.”

“We're not splitting up, we'll be a minute away from each other.”

Apparently, that did nothing to sooth the man's concerns, but Connor was right and as much as the man might want to argue with him, he wasn’t going to give in.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll call you. I’ll talk you through what I’m seeing,” reasoned Connor, hoping that would be enough to placate him. Gavin narrowed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. Connor sighed. “We’re wasting time. What do you think will be in there? It's a family home, not a literal drug den.”

Gavin rounded on him, prodding a finger into his chest, looking ready to unleash a tirade of arguments but, obviously not finding one, he growled. “Fine. Don’t hang up.” 

He dug his phone out of his pocket and marched off.

Connor shook his head as his eyes followed Gavin, feeling the same warmth in his skin that he’d felt in the car. The man was certainly infuriating but Connor could tell it was coming from a good place.

Focusing his thoughts, he entered the property.

As expected, the back door opened into the kitchen.

He pulled his phone out and called Gavin.

“You're an idiot, you know that?” A car door slammed shut.

Connor smiled. “As much as I appreciate your concern, I’m perfectly capable of handling an empty house.”

“I have over a decade’s worth of experience in the field. When my gut says be careful, I’m fucking careful. So just… be careful,” he grumbled. “What do you see?”

Connor ignored his rant and looked around. The kitchen was bright, decorated nicely and neat enough for a home of three. He opened up some cupboards but found nothing out of the ordinary. “Looks normal so far.”

He moved through the house, into the living room. Again, it was unremarkable. “The living room is the same. Maybe a bit too plain. No pictures or paintings. What does this neighbourhood have against kids? It’s like they don’t exist-"

Connor paused. This was unusual. There was a small table pushed up against the wall, covered in photographs of a woman. Blond, blue eyed. One in a wedding dress, one in a hospital room holding a baby. Some were simple candid shots outdoors, while others appeared to be outside a club or bar. She was smiling widely in every single one. 

Candles were dotted over the table, which, in turn, was splashed in candlewax, a heavy cross hanging above it. Connor picked up a photo and scanned it. 

_//Jennifer Jones, forty-two years old, deceased._

“Talk to me, dipshit,” said Gavin, impatiently, on the other end of the phone. “What are you seeing?”

“Some kind of shrine to Jones' wife. She passed away a few years ago.”

He took a picture of the table and sent it to Gavin.

“Creepy,” the man muttered. “Pretty possessive, if you ask me.”

“He must have cared for her deeply, although this does seem rather creepy,” agreed Connor.

He put the photo down and moved upstairs, checking the master bedroom first. It was bare, with white sheets and beige walls. A single framed photograph of the same woman sat alone on the bedside table. 

“The bedroom is empty,” he updated Gavin, opening the wardrobe. It was full of boxes of clothing, pictures and ornaments. “It looks like Jones boxed up his wife's possessions after she passed.”

“Can you speed this up a bit?”

“Getting restless, Gavin?” smiled Connor, leaving the room and going to the next one. 

It was the exact opposite of the master bedroom. Brightly painted, messy, two single beds pushed to either side. Both sides of the room were decorated differently, one covered in posters of near nude women, the other with pictures of basketball players and artwork.

Sam had talent.

“This isn’t exactly legal, Con,” argued Gavin, frustratedly. “Like I’ve said a million times now, this is just fucking stupid.”

“I’m in Dillon and Sam's room. Looks like they share.”

“Fucking great. Kid sleeps in the same room as the guy beating him.”

Not for long, if they could find the evidence they needed. “I understand but you need to keep your head,” he drawled, opening every drawer before checking under the beds. “If this pans out how it should...”

_//Red Ice: Detected_

Tiny traces of red powder, dug into the carpet. An old spillage.

“Connor, I will fucking come in there,” the detective hissed, clearly not in the mood to joke anymore.

“Red ice located,” reported Connor, touching the powder to his tongue. “It's old, not the strain we're looking for but...” he tugged at a rucksack under the bed, opening it. He smiled. “This is.”

Hundreds of tiny bags. They were all identical to the one in Connor's pocket, right down to the hourglass symbol in the corner, and they filled the rucksack half full.

He shot off a picture to Gavin.

“Holy shit,” he said in disbelief. “That’s thousands of dollars worth of ice.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s the one making the drug but it's more than enough to prove intent to distribute.”

“It fucking would be if any of this was _legal_ , Connor,” objected Gavin seriously. “We have no right to be in there.”

The detective was correct, but they had to be certain. Now they were. 

He zipped up the rucksack and slid it back under the bed. He wandered over to the desk.

Minuscule traces of red ice coated the top, along with notebooks, Sam's school work, a few pictures taped to the mirror, and...

“Gavin, what was the name of the club Dillon was picked up from?”

“Um... Club Sand.”

“There's a note attached to the mirror, detailing every open night.”

“Well, that's probably most nights at this time of year. College students finishing up exams, heading back to their home states. Big time to party.”

He was right. The note had the club open every night for the next two weeks, varying hours.

“I think that's where he's going,” said Connor.

“He's already been picked up there twice, you really think he'd go back for round three? He can't be that stupid.”

“There is nothing else to suggest-”

“Ah, shit,” huffed the detective. “Liz is back. Fucking pain in the ass. Right, finish up what you’re doing, I'll meet you round back.”

Connor left the bedroom, aiming towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. “Sounds good, det-"

_//EMERGENCY SHUT-**_

*

“Connor?” Gavin held the phone away from his ear as a burst of white noise left the speaker. “Connor, don’t fucking play with me!”

Silence.

“Shit!”

Gavin put the car in drive, pressing his foot down, swinging it into the opposite the street. He fired it into a parking bay, far enough away from Sam's house and between a mix of other cars. Hopefully even eagle-eyed Liz wouldn’t notice it. 

He pulled his firearm out of the glove compartment and tucked it in the back of his jeans, covering it with his t-shirt.

It might be slightly noticeable but was he fuck going in there unarmed.

He left the car, walking as nonchalantly as he could, trying to redial the android’s number, but it was coming back out of service. What the fuck happened?

Cut off mid-sentence with a creepy electrical buzz? Yeah, it was hot when _Gavin_ was making those noises come from Connor, less so when they were coming from him while he was investigating an apparently empty house. 

Shoving open the gate with his shoulder, he sneaked inside, closing it behind him, heading straight to the house.

He didn’t even bother checking the lower floor. Connor had been in the bedrooms when he'd stopped responding. 

He ran up the stairs two at a time, before stopping dead in his tracks.

He swallowed thickly as he processed the sight in front of him.

Connor was kneeling on the floor, eyes closed, his LED pulsing a dim red. He wasn't moving.

And it was at that fucking moment that he heard a car pulling up outside.

Shit.

He could have easily carried Connor out of the back door. Made some excuse to anyone who saw them on the street.

It might be a bit more difficult to walk them past three occupants of a house they were currently breaking into.

_Such a stupid fucking idea._

If they made it out of this, he would never let Connor hear the end of it.

Fuck it, run.

He unhooked his hand from the sling, snatching Connor’s phone from the floor and shoving it into his pocket. He grabbed Connor under the arms, picking him up and holding him close, thanking whatever designer made him so lightweight.

He made it downstairs, just in time for the front door to open. 

Without thinking, he threw open what he thought was a bathroom door but what turned out to be a closet. It was small, cramped, and dark, and it would fucking do.

He leaned Connor against the wall, closing the door over almost the entire way, leaving a slight gap so he could see what was happening. 

“Con, you really need to switch the fuck back on,” he hissed, trying not to let the panic set in. This was what he was trained for.

Sort of.

And Connor's LED was still lit, which meant he was fine.

_He was fine._

Gavin peered outside.

Sam had wandered into the living room, playing on his phone. The bruise on his face had darkened, his eye slightly swollen. "Shit!" the kid grumbled, throwing the phone on the couch.

Gavin had the urge to grab him and pull him inside too, forgetting that it was his fucking house. He was supposed to be there.

“Sam! Swear inside this house again and you’ll see what happens,” a man shouted from the door.

“Sorry,” the kid muttered, picking up his phone again and darting up the stairs.

Suddenly, Connor's LED changed, spinning a wild yellow and hands came up to grip Gavin's waist.

“Gavin?" a loud staticky noise left him.

Gavin's hand flew to Connor's mouth, the other covering the spinning light on his temple. He didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on, but he wasn’t about to question it while they were still stuck inside.

“New plan,” Gavin whispered, urgently, although it didn’t look like Connor was lucid enough to understand him. His eyes were unfocused and he was swaying slightly, holding onto Gavin tightly. He also felt way warmer than he should be. “We leave as soon as the coast is clear.”

Heavier footsteps entered the living room. Gavin held Connor firmly. They weren’t getting caught now.

“Sam,” a man shouted. It must have been Sandy, but the voice had lost its pleasant lilt from the party the day before. “I’ll be working. Keep the noise down.”

“I will,” called Sam in response. “I’m going to Ben’s.”

“Just be back before tonight.”

Sandy made his way up the stairs and then up what sounded like _another_ set of stairs. Gavin frowned. 

But it wasn't the time. He needed to get Connor out of here. He still hadn't heard Dillon. Maybe he hadn't come home with them.

Connor was tugging on his t-shirt.

"We'll leave in a moment-"

But then he spotted what Connor was looking at. 

In amongst the jackets and bags was a small rucksack on the floor, one he'd seen Sam with before. 

"Red ice detected." Connor didn't so much say it as forced the words past his lips, like the words confused him. "Am I saying that right?" Then the android giggled. 

He fucking giggled.

Holy shit. If it wasn't for the situation, it would have been hilarious, but for fuck sake, Connor sounded drunk.

“No more talking, Connor,” Gavin whispered sternly. "I need at least one free hand."

“Of course, detective,” slurred Connor. He swayed a little on his feet. "No, Gavin... Gavin?" He tugged at Gavin's t-shirt hard and he was pulled towards the android, having to grab at one of the coats to stay standing. Connor pressed his lips against his ear. "I think something's wrong with my processors."

"You think?" muttered Gavin sarcastically, pulling himself free from the android's grip to peer back into the empty hall. There was no way Dillon came home with them. 

"I'm thinking so many things," Connor gasped. At least he was being quiet. "I think you think I'm pretty."

"I sure do, Con," Gavin couldn't help chuckling at that. Fuck, how hadn't they been caught yet? It was some fucking miracle. 

He reached down, picking up the bag Connor had been looking at. "Is this where the red ice is?"

"Yes," he confirmed quickly, although it was hard to tell, since he couldn't seem to focus his eyes. "That's Sam's bag. We should take him with us."

"Do you mean the bag?" he asked, but Connor shook his head vehemently. "Con, as much as I would love that, it would be kidnapping and we're already breaking into his house, so let's not add any more charges to our fuckin' rap sheet, alright?" 

Gavin had to admit, as funny as this was, Connor was useless for the time being. He looked inside the bag. A charger, a few notebooks and a variety of coloured pencils, nothing else.

"But you're Gavin Reed, the tiny criminal," Connor giggled again, ruffling his hair. Yeah, he needed to get them out of here.

“Right, Con," he said finally, shoving the android's hand away from him. "It's almost time. We're going to go straight for the kitchen, _quietly_ , then through the garden and out the gate. Can you do that?"

“Anything you can do, I can do better," he sang in a whisper. "Gavin, Gavin, it's your turn."

"Con," he hissed. "We're committing a crime, not fucking singing."

It was taking all of his strength not to get his phone out of his pocket to video this. He just hoped it wasn't permanent.

Of course it wouldn't be permanent.

_Stop thinking and focus._

Fuck, Anderson was going to kill him.

"You ready?" he said, wrapping an arm around the android's waist, steadying him. Shit, he really was burning up. No wonder he couldn't think straight.

"Born ready," Connor replied, rubbing his cheek on Gavin's shoulder. "Or made ready? Created ready?"

"Ready is fucking ready, you adorable prick," he muttered, his lips twitching upwards. 

He opened the door and dragged the android out, through the living room and through the kitchen. 

He could hear movement up the stairs but he couldn't pay attention to that. He had to make sure Connor didn't kill them getting down the few steps leading to the garden.

Finally out the back gate, Gavin sighed in relief even as Connor became extra grabby, running his hand over Gavin's chest and stomach, because he'd made it his 'mission' to find out if he was ticklish.

If only Liz could see them now...

Gavin chanced a glance back to the house, at the small extension added to the attic room that he hadn't noticed before.

What kind of work was _Uncle Sandy_ doing up there?

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin:....  
> Gavin:....  
> Gavin:....  
> Connor: Fine! You were right! It was a stupid plan!  
> Gavin: :)
> 
>    
> Some fun with Connor before the meet with those pricks in Vice.......
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stared at each other, waiting for who would back down first.
> 
> Gavin growled in frustration. “Fine. But you’re staying in the fucking car. I’m not giving the prick the satisfaction of... whatever.”
> 
> Connor stood up, turning on the shower and setting it to cool. “We'll see.”
> 
> “No, we fucking won't,” Gavin tutted, his eyes raking over Connor's body before turning and leaving the room, muttering, “I need a fucking coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've written... and it was hard. 
> 
> I literally do the same thing. Write some scenes, look back and think... no... fluffier...
> 
> It's because I love them.
> 
> Also warnings for those pricks. You know who I mean. They're in vice and they ain't nice.
> 
> I'm tired, just shoot me.

Chapter 13

“You should have seen it, Chen. It was amazing.”

Connor lay in the bathtub, listening to the detective go on and on about his little... episode, all while pacing outside the room.

It was not _that_ funny.

Or, at least, he assumed it wasn’t that funny. He was struggling to recall the majority of it.

His mind was an irritating series of jumbled fragments. The thousands of prompts that had been furiously filling his vision when he had forced himself from the shutdown had been ranging from the ridiculous to the outright murderous. He'd struggled to use as much of his processing power as he possibly could to aim for anything that wasn't remotely dangerous, which may have led to...

“He sang!... No, I’m not fucking lying!... Course I’m not gonna tell anyone else, but… How did you want me to fucking video it, I was trying to contain it... We were none of your damn business, Chen, that's where we were.”

Connor rolled his eyes. He’d never heard the detective this excitable. 

The cold bath had thankfully cooled his overheated systems enough for him to start thinking clearly once again. His prompts had calmed down and had started making much more sense. 

But he still couldn’t tell how long he’d been in the tub for. He didn’t remember taking off his clothes or getting in. He didn't know how much trouble he'd really caused. 

There was an empty coffee mug sitting on the sink and, the pacing and rambling aside, Gavin seemed to be okay. It couldn’t have been _too_ bad.

“No, Chen. He doesn’t need to see that... Chen, don't you fucking dare send him that-!”

Connor heard his phone ding somewhere on the floor.

“Unbelievable. You’re a bitch… Yeah, whatever. See ya.”

That was tempting... but it would have to wait.

Gavin chapped on the door, peaking through. “Um, how you feeling?”

“I can think again, and hopefully I won't be singing for a while,” he said, shifting a little further under the water. 

“Mind if I...” The detective gestured to the floor.

Connor nodded his head in invitation, eyeing the man carefully. After all the hassle he'd caused, he had expected at least a little anger from the detective. Maybe even an ‘I told you so’, _especially_ an ‘I told you so’, but nothing.

Amusingly, Gavin made the effort to avert his eyes before sitting on the floor next to the tub, reaching up to put his phone on the sink, then shuffling down low enough so Connor’s body was hidden from view.

“You’ve seen me naked, detective, and I can't imagine I voluntarily stripped myself…”

“Well, you tried to,” Gavin chuckled, sitting up a little, the tiny bit of sympathy in his tone immediately overshadowed by his ear to ear grin. “In the car, then again in the garden. You were burning up, scared the shit out of me, so I ran a cold bath, which made you really happy and seemed to help... But then you got lonely and wanted me in the tub with you.”

Gavin was worried about him.

_//Gavin cares-_

Wait.

“Oh,” Connor budged himself up, the water dripping from his skin. He ran his eyes over Gavin. He was dressed in darker jeans and a white t-shirt. Oops. “You’re wearing different clothes.”

“Yeah, I lost that one,” said Gavin awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “My fault, really. At that point I was laughing so hard you literally picked me up and pulled me in. You're pretty fucking strong.”

“I'm sorry,” he said sincerely, looking into the water. Not being able to recall his memories properly was troubling. He didn’t like it. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

If he’d hurt him...

Gavin’s eyes widened. “Course you didn't, dipshit. Kind of the opposite, actually. You got really cuddly,” he teased, reaching into the tub and pinching Connor's cheek hard. “Who knew the big, scary deviant hunter could be so fucking cute?”

Connor glowered, batting the man’s hand away. Despite the cold water surrounding him, he could feel heat rising in his face. “Do you want to be soaked again, detective?”

“Alright, fine,” Gavin said, his smile fading a little, letting his hand fall down to swirl in the water instead. “So what the fuck happened?”

That was an excellent question. 

There had only been one more room to check before he met Gavin outside but…

“I was fine until I reached the end of the hall, and then my emergency shutdown protocol kicked in,” he pushed himself up, feeling decidedly better. “It had to be an electronic scrambler, or some kind of short-range EMP device.”

It was the only thing that would stall his systems like that. He shouldn’t have forced himself back online so quickly, he just knew he needed to get out of the house. He hadn’t expected the immediate backlash of the prompts or his overheated systems.

“What the fuck would Jones be doing with one of those? And how would that make you act like the funniest thing I've ever seen?”

Connor glared at him.

“Oh, come on!” he laughed. “That’s probably the only time I’ll ever see you like that. Let me enjoy it!”

“You're incredibly lucky I had some semblance of control,” Connor folded his arms over his chest. “It could have been much worse.”

Gavin stared at him in disbelief. “That was you _in control_?”

Groaning, Connor slid down, his body sinking back under the cool water.

Following him, the detective leaned over the side. “Are you being serious? Fuck, what were you trying to _avoid_ acting like?”

“I was trying to avoid killing you, detective.” Connor tried to come off as threatening as he could, while lying naked in the detective's bathtub. “I’m still tempted.” 

Apparently, that had an effect. A small one, and it wasn't even close to fear, but still.

Gavin sat back on his heels, his face a cross between disappointed and confused. Were those the puppy-dog eyes Hank accused Connor of using on him? “What the fuck did _I_ do?”

Shit. That look was ridiculously heartbreaking on a man whose default expression and attitude was, well, ‘scowl’.

He was making it very difficult to stay annoyed at him.

“It wasn’t you, it was me,” he sighed, looking up at Gavin. “I forced myself back online too quickly, but I was still under the effects. My mind was spinning like a roulette table, as if someone had pushed a randomise button inside my head. I couldn’t control all of my impulses. I can barely remember it.”

“Sounds like me after ten beers,” muttered Gavin with a shrug.

_//Future Scenario: Get drunk with Gavin_

Connor hid his smile, carrying on. “I used all my energy trying for positive prompts but none of them were making sense. I very easily could have chosen negative prompts. I doubt you would have found those as entertaining.”

Gavin stroked the water lightly, resting his chin on the edge of the tub with a smug smile. “You can pretend all you want that you would have gone ‘negative prompt' on me, barbie. Whatever that means. I know better.” Gavin smirked down at him, flicking water in his face. “You _like_ me.”

Connor rubbed his hand over his face, wiping away the water. He opened his mouth to argue…

But there wasn’t an argument to make. Gavin was right. 

His impulsiveness and his hyperactive tendencies, the way he spoke his mind and didn’t hold back, his fierce loyalty and protectiveness, his stubbornness and fearlessness, his love of the job... Connor admired every single trait. Even the maddening ones, like his caffeine addiction and his poorly controlled temper. They _made_ Gavin.

The way he kissed him in the car...

He liked that most of all. 

“You'll still never hear me sing again,” he said, swiftly changing the subject.

Gavin scoffed. “You’ve never watched The Lion King with me. You'd never stop, even if it was just to drown me out.” He twirled a finger in the water. “Don’t worry though. We probably won’t have time before we solve this.”

Connor shifted uneasily. That thought had crossed his mind too. After tonight, they could have their answer. The case could be solved.

It was selfish, but he felt disappointed. He'd become comfortable in Gavin's company. It was hard to believe he ever saw him as a threat, as an _obstacle_. 

He _cared_ about the man. It shouldn't have been a revelation, but it was. Hank was going to lose his mind when he found out about-

Water splashed in his face and Gavin, obviously bored with the sudden lack of attention, flipped him off with a grin. 

Hm. Maybe 'care' was too strong a word. The man was worse than Sumo. At least the St. Bernard knew how to behave.

Using his ‘superpower’ speed, he quickly sat up, sliding his arm under the detective's, leaning over to grab the leg of his jeans and, with very little effort, pulled him into the tub.

“Fuck, Connor! Overreaction!”

He made a show of trying to wriggle free but Connor held him close, a wide smile on his face as he hugged Gavin’s back against his chest, his hips sliding between Connor’s legs. 

“Second time today…” he complained loudly, while trying to contain his laughter. "It's cold, dipshit! And you’re naked! You don’t have any fucking shame!" 

Connor happily nuzzled into Gavin's hair, enjoying the detective's weight pressing against him. “Don't care. You deserve this.”

With one arm wrapped over the man's shoulders, Connor's other hand roamed down Gavin's chest and over his stomach, before slipping under his wet t-shirt.

The hair on Gavin's skin was raised, and Connor could feel the tiny bumps under his fingers as he memorised each tight muscle of the detective's torso.

Very quickly, Gavin gave up trying to escape, laughing breathlessly. His head tilted back against Connor's shoulder. “Don’t know how I deserve any of this,” he chuckled shakily.

Maybe they wouldn't see each other outside of work after the case was done. Maybe they would return to the precinct and go straight back to the awkward and strained relationship they'd always had, this brief interlude forgotten.

But they still had this time, and while they were in the little bubble they’d created for themselves, Connor wasn't going to waste a second of it.

Plus, out of all the ways he could show the detective how grateful he was for getting him out of that house, for keeping him safe, this was his favourite.

Gavin certainly seemed to enjoy the attention.

Releasing his shoulders, both of Connor's hands found their way under his t-shirt, slowly exploring his muscles, fingers skirting over his hardened nipples.

Gavin inhaled sharply at the contact, his body settling completely against Connor.

_Finally._

Connor pressed a kiss behind Gavin's ear.

He should have been able to tell that the detective’s laidback attitude was put on, particularly when he’d spent at least the last hour pacing outside. 

Finding the hem of Gavin's t-shirt, Connor pulled the clothing over his head with no resistance, throwing it onto the tiled floor. 

His arms looped under Gavin's, continuing to stroke his warm, tanned stomach. Connor planted soft, slow kisses over his neck and shoulder, until Gavin was humming contentedly.

_//Backup Audio Saved**_

Lowering his hands, he made quick work unbuttoning Gavin's jeans, even while wet. 

There wasn't much point in removing them. Connor had access to everything he needed from here.

Connor licked a strip up Gavin’s neck as he pushed his boxers down enough to release him. 

He was nearly hard already, thick, and pre-release mingled with the water of the bath.

Wrapping his fingers around him, Connor moved over his length in one fluid motion.

“Fuck!” the detective hissed, biting down on his lip, muffling his moans.

“Please don't be quiet, detective,” said Connor, pressing a kiss again his jaw, then ear, before whispering, “I want to hear you.”

He loved every single sound that left the man's mouth. If time was running out, he had to hear more.

“Detective...” Gavin repeated with a lazy chuckle, but he did stop biting his lip. His breath hitched as Connor moved. “Shit… don't think I could be quiet if I tried.”

Connor smiled, playfully nipping his earlobe, giving it a gentle tug, his hand moved over Gavin's hardness, swiping at the tip with his thumb. 

“Connor...” the man groaned, a little louder, his legs widening as far as the bathtub and soaked jeans would allow.

As Connor continued, Gavin’s head fell back completely against his shoulder, eyes closed, a look of absolute pleasure on his face.

_//Backup Image Saved**_

It was perfect.

Connor would gladly spend the entire day and night trying to keep Gavin looking like that.

Moving his free hand upwards, his fingers delicately massaged his lower abdomen, and the muscles there tightened under his touch.

“Con,” he breathed, reaching a wet hand over them to grip Connor's hair. “Fuck, keep going.”

Like he needed to be told twice.

One hand slid upwards to trace circles around his nipples as his other picked up the pace.

Gavin reacted instantly to the change, his hips grinding back against him before lifting upwards, and Connor found his own hips following the movement. Gavin’s low and heavy moan vibrated against Connor’s chest.

Being so focused on his own newly discovered sensations before, Connor hadn’t had the opportunity to properly appreciate each and every sound. He did now. And Connor committed every single one of them to all of the appropriate databases he could find. 

Even those not so appropriate.

He didn’t care. He wanted them all over his memory banks.

He bit into the soft flesh of the detective’s neck, sucking at the spot, as the man's hips lifted to meet Connor’s movements.

“Fuck, yeah. Con, that's it,” his deep voice tightened, as did his grip in Connor's hair. He tilted his head, giving Connor more access. “That's... fuck!”

His strokes sped up and his other hand ventured upwards, pushing at Gavin's throat, exposing even more of him to Connor’s mouth, while Connor lost himself in the sounds he was making.

“Fuck, Connor!” he growled, the words vibrating in Connor's ear. “Yes!”

Gavin's back arched as he came with a fierce groan, and Connor kept going, moving over him until Gavin's orgasm was completely spent, and he collapsed back against him.

Unsteady breathing was the only sound that filled the room.

Gavin slowly released his hair, but before his arm could fall away from him entirely, Connor caught it. He slid his hand up Gavin's forearm and pressed a kiss to his inner wrist, then his palm, before wrapping them around Gavin’s trembling chest.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head against Gavin's, giving them both a few minutes before speaking.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” he said softly, stroking the hand under his. “It was a stupid plan.”

Gavin chuckled breathlessly. “A stupid plan... was it really?”

Suddenly, Gavin was turning himself around, water splashing over the tub, until he was lying on top of Connor, chest to chest, their faces inches apart.

“Sorry, Con, but it's not enough,” he whispered deviously.

_//Gavin has **far** too much energy _

Connor pressed his lips together, trying to think of anything other than tugging the man's hips against his. 

“You know what I have to say now, don't you…?”

He didn’t trust Gavin's tone, or his own voice to answer.

Gavin leaned his full body against him, looking down at him with lustful eyes, and Connor couldn't stop the slight shift of his hips and quiver of his breath as his systems dared to heat up again.

The man dipped down, and his tongue traced the shell of Connor's ear. Connor’s eyes slipped closed, focusing only on the pleasant sensation.

Then it stopped and Gavin pressed a soft kiss against him, whispering low, but accentuating every single word. “I fucking told you so.”

He pulled back and Connor's eyes shot open, staring at the grinning man above him. 

“Don’t you fucking forget it,” he beamed proudly. “But you're welcome. You can _thank me_ again whenever you want.”

Ugh, he was infuriating.

“You-" but Connor didn’t get a chance to finish as the exasperating human ducked his head again, pressing a slow, wet kiss to Connor's lips before bracing against the bath and lifting himself out.

Hm. Connor might not have liked the chill he left, not in the slightest, but he did appreciate the view when Gavin began stripping away his wet clothes. His physique really was impressive.

“Don't look at me like that, you eager fucking android,” chuckled Gavin, tugging his wet jeans down his legs. “I’m not getting back in there, and you’re not leaving until you’ve chilled the fuck out. Four changes of clothes today and it's barely past one. Why do I keep getting soaked around you?”

Connor rolled his eyes, lying back in the tub, but his attention kept drifting back to the man.

He couldn't help it. Even as Gavin nabbed a towel from the heated rail, wrapping it around his tapered waist, his hand going up to massage his bruised shoulder...

_Bruised shoulder._

Shit.

He checked his messages internally.

_//Captain Fowler: Message 11:02_

He'd missed it when he was having his ‘episode’.

“Gavin.”

“Listen, if you want me back in so badly, all you’ve got to do is say ‘you did tell me so Gavin, I swear I'll never convince you to break the law to get ahead again'...”

Connor had to force himself not to immediately repeat those words. As much as he would love Gavin to join him again, they had a job to do.

“First of all,” Connor said, pulling the plug out of the tub and letting the water drain, “that is _not_ what I sound like, and second of all, I’m afraid we have to go.”

Gavin blinked, then caught his meaning. He shook his head. “Fuck, you really know how to kill the mood.”

“How about I go and you stay here-" he tried.

“Not a chance,” Gavin said firmly, running his hand through his wet hair. “I don't want you going at all.”

“You said us splitting up was a bad idea and you were right. We’re not doing that again.” Connor wasn’t taking no for an answer.

_**//Gavin will not be alone with the detectives again** _

The glaring reminder appeared needlessly in his vision.

It wasn't an option.

They stared at each other, waiting for who would back down first.

Gavin growled in frustration. “Fine. But you’re staying in the fucking car. I’m not giving the prick the satisfaction of... whatever.”

Connor stood up, turning on the shower and setting it to cool. “We'll see.”

“No, we fucking won't,” Gavin tutted, his eyes raking over Connor's body before turning and leaving the room, muttering, “I need a fucking coffee.”

As Connor let the water run over him, he recalled each one of Gavin’s bruises in detail.

_//Thick fists and size ten shoes_

_**//Gavin Reed Priority Level: High** _

*

The warehouse looked like it had been abandoned for years. The few windows that weren’t boarded up were covered in dust so thick that very little sunlight managed to break through. The scent of damp hung heavily in the air, with mouldy cardboard boxes piled high against the walls, old machinery cluttering the large space.

Gavin shoved his hands inside the large pockets of his leather jacket, but it did nothing to keep the chill out.

Of course, the prick would choose a place like this to meet. He couldn’t imagine it being Fowler's idea.

At least he’d managed to convince Connor to stay in the car. 

Even if he did kick up a stink about it, they’d found a compromise. Gavin was allowed to go in alone as long as he took his firearm. He’d tried to refuse, he didn't need it, but Connor had a way of making it impossible to say no.

He had to admit, it felt great to be wearing his holster rather than that damn sling. Connor probably knew that would be the case.

Fucking android.

He inhaled deeply, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest. Leaning against a pillar near the entrance, he tried to stop the anxiety from creeping in. 

He didn’t want to be here. He’d only been waiting for ten minutes but it could have been ten hours.

“There you are,” a horribly familiar voice echoed in the barren space.

Gavin turned around. The assholes must have come in through the back. 

Three detectives strode through, all dressed in dark clothes, weapons and badges on show. Two of them stopped next to some rusted-out machinery, refusing eye contact with him, busying themselves on their phones instead. The last stepped towards him, a massive smirk on his face. “How you doing, darlin’?”

“Simmons, Caleb,” Gavin nodded at the two men hovering in the background. Then he turned to the man closest. “Boyd.”

Tall, dark and handsome at first glance, he was someone who could easily grab anyone’s attention. His good looks and carefree attitude had definitely grabbed Gavin’s. But give him a second glance and the evidence was all over his face. 

The greasy, overgrown hair and shaggy stubble on his cheeks from late nights drinking and mornings too hungover to give a shit. Broken blood vessels marring the whites of his eyes from the cocaine he used in place of coffee. Tiny scars over his face and hands from bar fights he usually initiated.

It had taken Gavin far too long to notice the guy was a fucking sociopath.

And he called himself a detective. Just another reason Fowler should take his badge.

“How's the face?” asked Boyd, having the nerve to sound like he actually cared.

Gavin’s hand automatically went for the bruise, but he quickly disguised it by rubbing the scruff on his jaw. “Had worse.”

“Ready for round two then?” said the detective, running his eyes over him and licking his lips.

What the fuck had Gavin seen in this guy?

“Round two?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Come on, Boyd. You know we've gone way past round two.”

“Still can’t prove it though, can you?” Boyd shrugged, with a light, aggravating smile.

Gavin’s patience was already wearing thin. He glanced over his shoulder to where his car was parked, too far away and hidden from view. He sighed. No backing out now. “Can we get this the fuck over with?”

Boyd chuckled. “Reed, don't be like that. We can take our time.”

An unpleasant chill ran through him. “Not gonna happen so let's start with Frank Miller. Connor managed to-"

“Connor? That the bot you’re working with?” Boyd's face scrunched into a laugh, looking over at the other detectives. It was an expression Gavin had had on his own face before, and he didn’t like seeing it. He liked hearing Connor's name coming out of that scumbag's mouth even less. “Oh, you must be hating that. Can't find a real partner so they've stuck you with a piece of plastic.”

Gavin bit his lip. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been vocal about his dislike of androids before. He _would_ have hated this. But that was in the past. He was trying to grow the fuck up.

And some people never changed.

Deep breaths. He needed to keep his cool. He needed to... 

… Ah, fuck it.

“Yeah, hating it, Boyd,” he said brashly. “Such a fucking nightmare having to work with someone who actually gives a shit about the job instead of somebody who only wants to start fights he knows he’ll win and shove enough powder up his fucking nose it’s a wonder it’s still fucking there. So you want to tell me which dealer you had to let off the hook to get your supply this month or are you ready to hear me talk?”

Silence followed.

Well, that seemed to get everybody’s attention.

Boyd growled furiously, closing the distance between them in a few large strides. He wrapped a thick hand around Gavin's throat, throwing him back against the pillar, knocking the air out of his lungs. He held him there, looming over him, their faces an inch apart.

The prick already knew he wouldn’t fight back. He _could._ He could fucking destroy him. 

But he wouldn’t. Connor had hit the nail on the head with that one. If Gavin fought back, they would report it. Three against one, and with his shitty reputation… They would give a fake version of events and he’d be out of a job. 

That wasn’t going to happen today. 

“You just can't keep your dirty, rat mouth shut, can you?” Boyd snarled, tightening his grip, digging his fingers into the muscles of Gavin’s neck. “That report you filed could have destroyed me, but you're so fucking useless you couldn’t even get that to stick.” He leaned in close. “Still too much of a pussy to fight me?”

Gavin forced a cocky grin onto his face. “And you’re so fucking predictable. You’re not gonna take my job that easy, prick,” he managed to say, his throat starting to ache.

“Predictable?” Boyd sneered, pushing his face against Gavin’s, licking up his jaw before planting a damp kiss against his cheek. 

Gavin’s fingers pressed hard into the cold stone pillar behind him, nausea building in the pit of his stomach.

“That explains why you keep coming back. Just a piece of trash that can’t resist my hands. Do you like getting your ass kicked? That a kink of yours, darlin’? You should have said. I would have indulged you…”

“If you’re gonna hit me, just do it,” Gavin said, his voice strained. “I’ve got better things to do today.”

“You’ve got nothing going on,” Boyd grinned. “My sources say you haven’t had anyone since me. Ruined you for life, didn’t I?” He pressed his face back against Gavin’s cheek, inhaling deeply. “You smell sweet, Reed. That's new.”

Sweet?

_Wait, sources?_

“You keeping tabs on me, Boyd?” he smirked, or at least he thought he did. It was getting hard to think. “You haven’t fucking changed. You need some serious help.”

The hand around his throat tightened and he started seeing stars. He wheezed, trying to suck in air, as he felt his blood rushing to his face with nowhere to go. The bruise on his cheek pulsed angrily.

He instinctively grabbed at Boyd's arm, but his oxygen-starved muscles were suddenly tired and the light pressure he could apply was having no effect. 

The android was right and Gavin was a stupid, stubborn idiot. He shouldn’t have done this alone. He should have fucking fought back.

Now he couldn’t if he wanted to.

He thought of Connor waiting in the car. Fuck, he wanted to be back there…

His head was spinning.

“That's better, darling,” he heard Boyd mutter, his vision starting to blur. “You were always so much more bearable when you were silent.”

_‘When your lips aren’t moving, you are actually a tolerable human being, Detective Reed.’_

Connor’s words from the bar repeated in his mind, overshadowing Boyd’s. 

Not harsh or cruel or filled with hate.

Light-hearted, teasing and full of mischief. He wanted to hear that voice again.

_‘Please don't be quiet, detective. I want to hear you.’_

“Maybe you really are into this,” Boyd said, with revulsion. “Let's see if we can wipe that smile off your face, you worthless, piece of-”

Gavin squinted, his eyes watery. He could just make out the prick finally pulling back his fist before he felt a rush of air against him and Boyd's hand was ripped from his neck, his nails dragging against his skin.

He stumbled to the side, gasping the air back into his lungs, blinking until he could focus again.

“Thick fists and size ten shoes,” he heard a smooth voice utter. “It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Detective Boyd.”

Boyd yelled in pain, crumbling to the floor as Connor’s slender fingers squeezed around his fist.

Where the fuck had he come from?

The two detectives who had been taking it easy in the background suddenly had their weapons drawn and Gavin followed suit, pulling out his gun without aiming it. 

“Settle the fuck down!” he croaked, his throat throbbing, and Simmons and Caleb exchanged glances before hesitantly holstering their guns.

“This...” the android said, incredulously.

The blood was still pounding in his ears as he holstered his own weapon. 

Connor glanced over his shoulder, those beautiful brown eyes locking with his, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “This is someone you _chose_ to be with?”

Gavin gave a hoarse chuckle. He had to appreciate the android’s thought processes at a time like this. “Never said I had good taste.”

“Well,” Connor turned back to the man on the ground, twisting Boyd’s fist until the man grunted loudly in pain, “that can't be _entirely_ true, but it certainly is in this case.”

Even though his neck had been almost crushed a few minutes before, Gavin couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief at the familiar sass. It was music to his fucking ears. 

“Only way was up, barbie,” he grinned. The android turned around, treating him to that incredible soft smile. “Thought I told you to stay in the car.”

“After I watched the video Tina sent me, I didn’t have much else to keep me occupied. And I really want to discuss that video, Gavin,” smirked Connor, his pale t-shirt clinging to his slim frame, a stark contrast to Boyd’s dark presence. He seemed so out of place in the eerie warehouse and Gavin couldn’t tear his eyes away. Until-

“Oh shit, Reed,” Boyd gave a warped laugh, his voice tight as he tried to move in Connor's unyielding grip. “Finally turned to plastic, aye? I fucked you so good you couldn’t find a real man to do the job after I left? Had to find a cheap piece of scrap metal to shove its dick in you instead-”

Gavin saw red. 

He'd heard enough. 

In a flash, his gun was in his hand and he was pointing it directly at Boyd. “Talk about him again, Boyd. I fucking dare you.”

“Gavin,” scolded Connor tiredly, rolling his eyes. “Why is your first instinct to point your gun at the things that annoy you?”

Hmph. That knocked the inch out of his trigger finger.

“I’m not pointing it at you, am I?” mocked Gavin, childishly, lowering his weapon, his eyes still locked on the piece of filth at Connor's feet. He grudgingly shoved it back in its holster and stepped away.

“Come on, Reed,” Boyd shook his head, breathing heavily, peering at him with cold, bloodshot eyes, sweat building on his forehead. “What makes you think you would even pull the trigger? Never had the balls to stand up to me before and now you’re hiding behind your plastic sex toy. Does it know how I roughed you up? Put all those pretty colours on your fucking ugly face while you lay there like a bitch and took it?"

Connor's face darkened and he added pressure to his grip. Boyd yelled again, grabbing at his own arm, his face twisted in agony. “You really should stop talking, Detective Boyd. Detective Reed is showing an impressive amount of restraint but I’m not inclined to do the same, and my _scrap metal_ arm wants to rip your flesh and bone one clean from your shoulder.”

Shit.

Gavin believed him.

Boyd squirmed like an idiot. “Get your fucking fleshlight off me, Reed!”

“I told you to watch your fucking mouth,” growled Gavin. He was trying hard to control himself. He refused to give Boyd the satisfaction of seeing him lose it. That’s exactly what the prick wanted. 

“Or what, Reed?” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You don’t scare me. Your fucking sexbot doesn’t scare me. You’re the one who likes it rough, darlin'. I can still hear you begging for it.” He forced a bitter laugh.

Gavin’s heart pounded furiously in his chest. “Like it rough? You fucking hit me in a coke-fuelled fucking rage!” he fumed, shaking his head. “And if you _ever_ heard me beg for anything, it was in your fucking head, you unbelievable prick!”

He ran a hand hard through his hair. 

He was done. 

They weren’t going to get anywhere with this asshole. He should just grab Connor and…

Oh shit. Connor.

The android was staring down at the man, expressionless, his LED the only thing giving him away. It was spinning a livid red. 

“Con…” he started.

But Connor was already moving, twisting Boyd’s arm and throwing him to the floor, face down, a knee digging into his back.

The android was _fast_.

Connor leaned in close, staring at Boyd with a smile so dangerous it sent shivers down Gavin’s spine. “I won’t bore you with the reasons why you _should_ be afraid of me, Detective Boyd, but let me tell you what I like to do in my free time.”

“Get the fuck off me!” Boyd growled, jerking his body, trying to get free.

Twisting his arm further up his back, the man cried out, his body shaking in anger. “When I have nothing else to do, I make up scenarios in my head, then I construct the simplest route to make the scenario play out exactly as I want it to. Would you like to know what scenarios I think of when I come across someone who is rude to me or someone who hurts those I care about?”

Gavin's eyes flashed to him.

“Not interested,” Boyd spat against the ground, cold sweat pouring off of him. 

Connor continued, without hearing him. “I create a scenario that would have them disappear completely, without a trace. One day they would be there, the next it would be as if they had never existed. I’ve planned it out so many times, perfected it, but I never found the person I wanted to act it out on until now. Do you know the probability of you ever being found? Or the likelihood of anyone ever connecting me to your disappearance?”

Gavin watched the colour drain from Boyd’s face as Connor lowered his voice, until it was barely more than a whisper. “The best part is, if you run or try to hide from me, I would _enjoy_ hunting you down. That was part of my programming after all. It’s what I was built for. It would be easy. It would be _fun_.”

That definitely sounded like the truth.

“I have witnesses,” Boyd faltered, the tremble in his voice making his words lose their conviction. “You can’t do shit.”

Connor let out a short chuckle. “Your friends over there? Tell me, how quickly do you think they would come forward, knowing that I would simply do the same to them. We can ask them.”

His eyes flickered upwards to the two men standing, staring at the scene. Caleb shook his head. Simmons crossed his arms and looked away.

“It doesn’t seem as if you have very good friends, Detective Boyd,” he said softly. “Although they are clever. I’ll offer you a deal then.”

He pulled back up, tightening his grip ever so slightly. “You will never lay a hand on Detective Reed again. You won’t speak to him. You won’t even _look_ in his direction. If someone starts to speak to you about him, you behave like you’ve never met him. If you do all that, I’ll save my scenario for someone else.” Connor lowered himself until his face was almost pressed against Boyd’s ear. “If you don’t, well… I would sooner see you dead than in his presence again and you will not see me coming. I care about him, Detective Boyd, and you are nothing to me.” He leaned back, loosening his grip. “You don’t know him anymore. Do we understand each other?”

_Holy fucking shit._

He knew Connor could be terrifying but fuck, that was dark. Hot, weirdly fucking hot, and absolutely disturbing. 

He stared between them, half hoping that Boyd would be that much of an idiot that he would argue, but his eyes were wide with fear, breathing hard.

“Fuckin’… yes! Don’t know him, never heard of him,” he sputtered, no longer trying to free himself. “I won’t fuckin’ touch him again.”

Satisfied, Connor released him. He scrambled heavily to his feet, stumbling back over to Simmons and Caleb, hugging his arm against him.

“That’s the first good decision you’ve made today, Detective Boyd,” Connor said, moving to stand next to Gavin. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Shall we get on with why we’re here?”

Although Connor’s face was neutral, his eyes flickered towards Gavin, his LED spinning yellow. Gavin knew he was being analysed but he didn’t mind one bit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Connor either.

But he needed to focus. It was time to get this over with.

“Frank Miller has an arsenal of weapons in his basement,” started Gavin, turning to the detectives. “Unregistered guns, no serial numbers. A good mixture of firepower, pistols, glocks, assault and sniper rifles, a few shotguns.”

A heavy silence followed.

“I heard the freak is some kind of doomsday nut,” said Caleb, the first one brave enough to talk.

“That’s a possibility,” said Connor, nodding. “There was no trace of red ice. If he was making it, or even holding it, I would have expected to find it there. It would be very unlikely for someone like him to use more than one room in their home for illegal activity.”

“You didn’t check the other rooms?” asked Simmons, sounding stupidly critical, but clearly not going to let Caleb be the only one to show some balls.

“I checked the kitchen, the living area, and the downstairs bathroom. And the basement where the guns were located. It had an electronic lock. I was interrupted before I could search upstairs.”

“Pity,” Simmons grunted, exchanging looks with Caleb. Boyd was too busy licking his wounds to pay attention. “We like him for this. Fits the profile and description. He could be working on ice upstairs. Might be ‘unlikely’ but it’s still possible.”

This was a waste of time. “The profile is white, male and between thirty-five and sixty. The description is just as vague. Three out of the five of us in this fucking warehouse fit it. You like Frank Miller because you know his name. Let it go, he’s not your guy.”

“We’ll do our jobs and you do yours,” sneered Simmons.

Gavin looked at Connor, who simply shrugged.

“Dillon Jones,” Connor continued. “We believe he is going to be selling at Club Sand, possibly as soon as tonight.”

“Oh really?” said Simmons. “And how do you know that?”

“You do your jobs and we’ll do ours,” Gavin smirked. “You should check out his dad too. Alexander Jones. Seems harmless but there’s definitely something more going on there.”

And he couldn't say any more than that, not without revealing that they had broken into his place.

Done. “Let’s go, Con.”

“Happily.”

“Woah, wait. That’s it?” called Simmons.

Connor turned back around, tapping his fingers on his pocket impatiently. “Dillon is potentially getting his supply locally. If you pick him up early tonight, he will have enough on him to prove intent to distribute. He will likely give up the supplier in exchange for a reduced sentence. Do you think you can handle all of that, or would you like me to write it down?”

Simmons glared at him furiously, and Caleb pressed his lips together.

“We’ll handle it,” said Caleb, finally, nodding his head at the other two. “Let’s go.”

They watched the detectives leave and Gavin couldn’t believe that Boyd didn’t even try to look back.

“They're not going to handle a thing, are they?” said Gavin.

“It's doubtful.”

Gavin glanced over at him.

Connor was staring hard after the detectives, his LED pulsing yellow, while he pressed his thumbnail into his finger.

Shit, this was awkward. Connor had just witnessed his ex with his hand around his throat. 

And if that wasn’t strange enough, Connor had stepped in to protect him. Defend him. Nobody had ever done that before. Nobody had ever _needed_ to. Gavin didn't know what to say.

The silence in the large, dark space was deafening. If one of them didn’t speak soon, Gavin was going to lose his-

Doors slammed shut loudly in the distance and a car took off, the noise of the old engine slowly fading.

”That man,” grumbled Connor, breaking the silence. He folded his arms over his chest crankily. “I am _not_ scrap metal.”

Gavin broke, snorting out a loud laugh, holding his head in his hands and rubbing them hard down his face. “Fuck, Con. I was about to get my ass kicked into next week. If I ever ask you to stay in the car again, just shoot me. It’ll be quicker.”

“Most expensive android ever created," Connor muttered, furiously, "and he called me 'cheap'.”

“Really?” laughed Gavin in disbelief. “Pretty sure he was going to straight up murder me and your feelings are hurt because he _undervalued_ you?”

Connor shrugged petulantly. "I've fought you before, Gavin. You could have taken him easily, but it seems as if your temper is only outdone by your stubbornness."

Gavin smiled at the vote of confidence. "Not losing my job for that prick."

The air in the dismal place suddenly felt so much lighter. Despite the ache in his throat and his burning lungs, he could finally breathe. 

“Con, just… Thank you.” He couldn’t express it enough.

Connor blinked at him curiously. “Seriously? That’s it?”

“What?” he frowned. He thought that was pretty big of him. Thanking people for their help was a notoriously hard thing for him to do. It definitely didn’t come naturally.

“When _I_ thanked _you_ , I was far more physical,” he said, glancing over at him. “I was expecting something a bit more than a ‘thank you’…”

Oh, was he?

Gavin grinned wickedly. 

“You want me to get physical with you, Con?” he said, running his eyes over the android. “Get over here and I’ll show you how physical I can be with the most expensive android ever created.”

Connor watched him, like Gavin was a tiger he had to escape, his LED spinning an enthusiastic blue. His fiery eyes flickered quickly to the wide door.

As soon as Gavin advanced on him, Connor made a run for it. 

No way was he getting away that easily. 

Chasing right after him, the fresh air and sunlight hit his face and he’d never been so fucking happy to be outside.

Connor made it to the car first, diving into the passenger side, while Gavin slid to a stop.

“You can’t hide in there, dipshit,” he chuckled, catching his breath. His pulse throbbed roughly in his throat. He didn’t care. He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He lit one, blowing the smoke into the air, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face. 

Connor rummaged through the glove compartment, reappearing holding the small first aid kit Gavin kept there. 

“Wait, I’m not _that_ injured," he frowned, taking another draw. "Barely a few scrapes and bruises.”

“It’s not for your scrapes,” he said, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. “We’ll deal with those later. May I?” 

That question sounded almost sarcastic now.

”All yours,” Gavin snorted. Connor could ask for anything, he’d earned it.

Moving into Gavin’s space, Connor’s LED spun yellow as he examined his face. “You were right. That man is an unbelievable prick. I don’t imagine he was like that when you first met, but I’m glad you decided to end it.”

“He was good at hiding who he was. Kind of like you,” Gavin smirked, taking another puff and blowing the smoke away from them. “You’re fucking terrifying, barbie.”

Connor frowned. “That’s not-“

“I’m joking, Con,” he chuckled, throwing away the cigarette. He didn't really need it. “Yeah, you’re terrifying, and smart and so fucking cute that it might be the thing that kills me. I’m so fucking grateful you only knocked me out in the evidence room because you could have destroyed me and I just…” he paused for effect. “I’ll never get tired of you telling me I’m right.”

But Gavin’s smugness was short-lived as the android, completely ignoring his almost complimentary rant, tugged his face towards him and began scrubbing his cheek with the wipe. “What are you-”

Then realisation struck him. That's where the fucking asshole had the audacity to kiss him. Connor couldn’t have been there when it happened. Could he see it?

His stomach tightened in an odd flurry of nervousness and appreciation, as he watched Connor, deep in concentration, remove every trace of it from his skin.

“Don’t like someone else marking your territory, barbie?” he joked awkwardly, not used to this kind of undivided attention.

“No, I don’t,” answered Connor, his lips twitching upwards as he added, “Not that I see you as my territory, in any way.”

“Yeah, you _say_ that,” he started slowly, glancing at him, remembering Boyd’s words, “but he could smell you on me.”

Connor's eyes locked on his, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “That’s not true.”

Gavin laughed, shaking his head. “It fucking is! He told me I smelled sweet. That's all you.”

“I smell sweet?” he asked, doubtfully. How the fuck didn’t he know that? 

Rolling his eyes, Gavin tugged him close, the distance between them disappearing. The android’s scent washed over him and his warm body felt so fucking good in his arms.

“You smell sweeter than my fucking coffee, dipshit,” he grinned against his neck. “Could pour you into a mug and drink you if I didn’t think I’d lose all my teeth and die.” 

He kissed Connor's soft skin, right over the bright blue marks he’d left there the night before. "But if you ever tell anyone you had to save me from getting my ass handed to me on a fucking plate, I'll have to kill you," he muttered in Connor's ear. "I have a reputation to protect."

Connor chuckled lightly, wrapping his arms around Gavin’s shoulders, gently stroking the short hair on the back of his head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Hey, Con?” said Gavin, leaning his head against Connor’s shoulder. “Con?”

“What is it, Gavin?” Connor said tiredly. 

“You care about me,” he sang, smiling widely.

“Detective, I’m not above knocking you unconscious again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he teased. “I’m never letting this go.”

Connor sighed heavily. “Let’s get out of here. If those detectives are as useless as they seem, we'll need to prepare for tonight. If this goes according to plan, Dillon will be in custody before midnight.”

Pushing him away, Connor paused for a second before taking Gavin’s face in his hands, and those same lips that had just terrified the shit out of three hardened detectives pressed a kiss against the cheek he’d just finished scrubbing. 

Gavin stared after him as Connor got into the car. Rubbing his jaw, he couldn't help laughing.

That fucking android.

_Territory fucking marked._

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most people have had a bad relationship, but if Gavin had to have one, it would be the wooooorst.
> 
>  
> 
> Thick fists and size ten shoes? Don't trust him. - Connor 2039
> 
>  
> 
> Connor, wrapped around Gavin like a koala on a tree: This right here? This is mine.  
> Gavin: Yip
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor knelt on the bed in between his legs, leaning over and tugging Gavin’s t-shirt over his head. “I want to know how it feels to be inside you, Gavin," he admitted, almost shyly, as if he wasn't the one who'd just carried him here. "If that’s something you’d like too?”
> 
> Super. Fucking. Hot. 
> 
> Holy shit. 
> 
> They were playing video games two minutes ago. How the fuck was this happening? Had he fallen asleep? Was he dreaming?
> 
> Gavin licked his lips as those words repeated over and over in his mind. It could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, but he finally managed to say, “Fuck yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly late chapter! This is what happens when people steal you two weekends in a row :/ 
> 
> I'm not going to lie, this chapter is literally just sex, but since we are so close to the end and Gavin had a hard time last chapter, I figured the guys earned at least some chill out time with each other!!

Chapter 14

“It was a tree.”

Gavin continued shovelling noodles and vegetables into his mouth, as Connor watched him intently from the other side of the couch.

“I was young,” he retorted around the food.

“It was last year.”

“Technically younger...” he grinned, pointing his chopsticks at him.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” laughed Connor, leaning back against the armrest and selecting the next route in the racing game. “Did you expect it to argue back?”

“Maybe it looked at me funny.”

“I’m sure it did,” Connor rolled his eyes, digging his foot against Gavin’s thigh.

“I still can't believe she sent you that video,” Gavin shook his head, putting the empty bowl onto the coffee table and picking up his controller. “Made it through a full year without anybody else knowing it existed. And, you know what? It was Chen’s fucking fault. She was the one buying all the drinks that night.”

“She thought it was fair. And you can’t blame her for the tree turning against you, Gavin. Is yelling at one technically a crime against nature?” smirked Connor, starting the game. 

“If you call me a tiny criminal one more time...” muttered Gavin.

“You're the one who fought a tree,” shrugged Connor with a wide grin. “Now, prepare to have your ass kicked.” Then he lowered his voice, whispering, “For the second time today.”

“Woah! Fucking harsh, android,” gasped Gavin in pretend shock. “Can you even remember how to use the controller after you were mind-scrambled?” 

“Watch and find out, you tiny criminal,” challenged Connor, biting his lip determinedly. 

“Fucking bring it, you adorable prick.”

He pressed down on the trigger button, and the little car on the screen shot off, leaving Connor’s car in the dust. This was _his_ game. No way was he going to let Connor beat him after only two practice rounds.

But even as he thought it, he took a turn too fast. He skidded onto the grass, and his car slowed down, Connor taking the lead.

_Son of a…_

“Detective, you lived in several homes as a child, surely you must have been told the story of the tortoise and the hare in one of them?” beamed Connor, skilfully taking every corner like he’d played the game a million times.

“You didn't even 'grow up', how the fuck do _you_ know that story?” he grimaced, pushing down harder on the button, like that would make him go faster.

They were neck and neck. He had to win this. Connor’s tricks couldn’t help him here… could they?

“Hey, you can’t use your superpowers in the game, right?”

Connor shook his head. “How would that even work?” 

Excellent. 

Slowly, he pulled his feet up onto the couch. Waiting for a corner towards the end of the track, he quickly threw himself against the android without letting his eyes leave the screen.

“Gavin!”

“I slipped!” laughed Gavin, squashing Connor into the armrest as his car swiftly took the lead. “Slipped right through the fucking finishing line. In your face!”

The sound of cheering flowed from the television.

“You cheated!” Connor tried to wriggle out from under him, but Gavin firmly planted himself on his stomach as the cheerful music played in the background.

“Don’t blame me for being awesome, barbie,” he smirked victoriously, giving his controller a well-earned kiss. 

“Gavin, you have three seconds to run before I teach you why cheating is bad,” warned Connor.

Wait, what was happening?

“Three.”

Shit.

“Two.”

Gavin shuffled off of him and leapt from the couch. 

Darting through the kitchen, he threw open the back door and almost toppled over Gizmo, who was busy sleeping in the sun. 

Perfect!

Gavin pulled the chubby cat into his arms and he gave an irritated chirp at being woken. “Sorry, buddy,” he explained quickly. “You’re my protection.”

Connor appeared at the door, smiling innocently. “Using Gizmo as a shield? That’s not very nice.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me while I’m holding this poor little guy, would you?” He held out Gizmo in front of him, but the little shit squirmed, slipping out of his hands and landing on the grass. He pranced off to rub himself all over Connor’s leg. “Traitor!”

“Picking the winning side,” grinned Connor, reaching down to pet the furry turncoat. “Who's a clever kitty?”

Gavin's lip twitched. Fuck, that was cute.

“Fine,” he gave in, rubbing his forehead. “What do you want from me?”

Connor stepped forward with that unbelievably mischievous look on his face. “We have four hours before we have to leave for Club Sand. I have an idea about how we can spend it.”

When he reached him, Connor dipped down, his shoulder pressed against Gavin’s hips and wrapping an arm around the back of his knees.

“What are you-" 

Standing up, he took Gavin with him. 

“Fuck!” Gavin exclaimed, a fit of laughter consuming him as the android lifted him effortlessly over his shoulder. Blood rushed to his head. “Oi! I might not be that heavy, but how the fuck can you weigh nothing and still manage to lift me like this?”

“Clever programming?” Connor offered, walking them back into the house. “And your shorter than me, and you keep yourself in surprisingly good shape for someone with a sugar addiction.”

“Why, thank you,” he said proudly, ignoring the height and sugar remark. “So... want to tell me where we're going?” 

“Bedroom,” Connor said simply, taking them up the stairs.

_Yes!_

“I like the way you think, barbie,” grinned Gavin. 

The bedroom door was pushed open and Gavin was flung onto the bed.

He stared up at the android in a dazed anticipation. Nothing about Connor ever made a bit of fucking sense but...

Everything about him set Gavin's blood on fire. His strength, his energy, his kindness and warmth. And he was hot. Super fucking hot.

Connor knelt on the bed in between his legs, leaning over and tugging Gavin’s t-shirt over his head. “I want to know how it feels to be inside you, Gavin," he admitted, almost shyly, as if he wasn't the one who'd just carried him here. "If that’s something you’d like too?”

Super. Fucking. Hot. 

Holy shit. 

They were playing video games two minutes ago. How the fuck was this happening? Had he fallen asleep? Was he dreaming?

Gavin licked his lips as those words repeated over and over in his mind. It could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, but he finally managed to say, “Fuck yes.”

Pulling himself to his knees, he took hold of Connor's t-shirt, sliding it over his head and throwing it to the floor before enveloping the unbelievable android tightly in his arms, leaving a trail of kisses against his neck. 

“I would really, really, _really_ like that,” he said enthusiastically, before the grinning android pulled him to his mouth. 

It was soft and playful to begin with, but the way Connor's warm hands slid over his skin, feeling every muscle, skirting over his lower back and gripping him closer... he had Gavin clinging to his shoulders in a matter of minutes, his tongue desperate to taste every delicious part of Connor's mouth.

Connor moved him back against the bed, his fingers skimming the waistband of his jeans. He unbuttoned them easily, only breaking the kiss to slide them and Gavin's boxers down his legs. 

Suddenly Gavin found himself very naked under the half-clothed android. 

Energy pulsed through his veins as Connor's hungry eyes ran all over his body, LED spinning yellow. It wasn't like being analysed, more like _memorised_ , like the android was studying every inch of him. 

Finally his LED glowed a bright blue and Connor leaned an elbow next to Gavin's head, kissing him again, caressing Gavin's stomach and chest like he’d never get another chance.

Gavin arched into the touch, revelling in the attention.

_Four hours._

They had to make the most of it.

His hand slid over the android's waist, another around his shoulders, Connor's perfect skin softer than silk under his fingers. He quickly found the secret indentations hiding there, deftly tracing them, enjoying the heady moans against his mouth and the growing pressure against his hip.

“Gavin,” Connor said, breaking away, his voice laced with static once more. “Where…?”

“Top drawer, bedside table,” he answered hurriedly. Connor leaned over, raking about in the drawer for a second before bringing it back with a small smile on his face.

“Strawberry flavour?”

Gavin gave a short laugh. “A gift from Tina. To encourage me out of my ‘celibate phase’, as she called it. Didn’t work.”

“Until now,” winked Connor cheekily, delicately kissing his neck, avoiding the injured areas.

“Yeah,” Gavin breathed, loving the movements of Connor's mouth on his skin. 

He almost couldn't believe that, a few hours before, the last guy he'd slept with had left fucking handprints at the exact spot Connor was now so focused on. He knew whose touch he preferred.

Slipping his fingers into Connor’s soft hair, he tugged him back to look into those fiery eyes set in that mischievous face. “Until now," he grinned.

He crushed their mouths together, holding him as close as he possibly could. Connor moaned, melting into the embrace and Gavin's hips had a mind of their own, rolling upwards, his hardness pressing against the heat of Connor’s stomach and jeans.

Fuck, he was unbelievably turned on. In his entire fucking life, nobody had even come near to exciting him as much. 

Connor broke away to kiss over his neck and collarbone, his mouth so hot against Gavin's skin he couldn't help the sounds that left him. His eyes followed the head of dark hair travelling down his chest and stomach, nipping and licking as he went.

His stomach muscles tightened eagerly as the android popped the lid off the tube, pouring some of the liquid on his fingers. Connor looked at him. “Are you sure?”

Gavin gave a breathless laugh. “Connor, I am very fucking sure.”

A soft smile graced Connor's lips before they parted, licking the tip of Gavin’s dick, a finger stroking his entrance. 

Gavin’s head fell back against the pillow, focusing only on the sensations. 

He couldn't believe this was happening. It was fucking impossible. He'd done nothing to deserve any of this.

But his thoughts were short-lived. Connor’s mouth wrapped around him, taking him whole. 

“Oh, fuck!” he exhaled, his body suddenly on fire. When Connor pulled back, he sucked hard, pushing a slender finger inside him, and Gavin growled with pleasure.

It had been _far_ too long.

He clutched the bedsheets underneath him as Connor took his time, patiently moving in and out of him, before carefully adding a second finger. There were a few moments when Gavin thought it was getting too much, but then Connor would suck gently upwards, tonguing the tip, and his body would immediately surrender, giving Connor all the access he wanted.

Soon, there were three fingers rocking inside of him and Gavin was a moaning fucking wreck, pressing back against them. 

He knew he was being loud, but he really didn't give a shit. This was amazing. He wanted him so fucking much.

He _needed_ him.

“Connor,” he said, his breathing ragged, but before he could finish, the android shifted his fingers slightly and hit a spot inside Gavin that had him seeing stars. “Shit! Con, right there!”

Connor didn’t miss a beat. His mouth came away, while his fingers brushed that spot over and over again until Gavin’s hips were lifting off the bed to meet his movements. 

Without warning, the fingers were gone and Gavin would never admit he actually fucking whined at the absence.

“I love the sounds you make,” smiled Connor, moving over him. Gavin could barely understand him his voice was so thick with static. “I save every single one.” 

The android's jeans were only unbuttoned enough to free him and he stroked himself lazily.

The sight alone was enough to bring Gavin embarrassingly close to the edge. 

Grabbing a pillow from beside Gavin’s head, Connor slid it under Gavin’s hips, making him comfortable, gently kissing his bruised cheek. 

“You really are incredible,” he said, gazing down at Gavin with eyes full of affection and desire. 

After all the awful shit that had happened today, he had no idea what to do with those words, or the warm feeling they left inside him. 

Swallowing thickly, Gavin pulled them together, his tongue slipping past Connor's lips as Connor, lining himself up, slowly pushed inside him.

 _Yesyesyes..._

This was _exactly_ what he needed. And judging by the heavy exhale and strong grip on his hip, Connor needed this too. 

The android pushed deeper and Gavin groaned at the incredible sensation of being filled, taking Connor's face in his palms and deepening the kiss.

Connor didn't rush, and Gavin was so grateful. He wanted to feel it all. He wanted _Connor_ to feel it all. 

He wanted to stay like this for as long as fucking possible, with Connor buried inside him. 

The grip on his waist loosened, and a warm hand glided over his stomach, up his chest, grasping at Gavin's arm as he slid in deeper and deeper-

Suddenly Connor broke away from his lips, his shaky breath hot against him. "Gavin, this feels..." He didn't finish.

Shit. It was easy to forget this was all new for him. 

"If you want to stop, we stop," Gavin said, his voice unsteady but adamant. He fucking meant it. He wasn't going to use Connor like that. Nobody was. He stroked Connor's cheek, kissing him softly. “You okay?”

Ardent brown eyes locked with his. "Yes," he sighed out a slight chuckle, taking one of Gavin's hands from his cheek. "More than okay."

The skin over the android's hand slowly slipped away, just as it had the night before, leaving behind the shining white shell. Gavin couldn’t look for long as Connor pressed them against the mattress, lacing their fingers together. 

He pushed inside Gavin again, and they both moaned in unison. All of Gavin's doubts disappeared and his head fell back against the bed, in a state of pure fucking joy as Connor filled him completely, burying himself to the hilt. 

The hand that had been leaning on the bed slid under Gavin's shoulder and the android began to move, slowly picking up the pace. 

_This_ was incredible. 

He lost himself in the motion, already impossibly close again. 

He tightened his grip on Connor's hand, his legs wrapped securely around his slim waist as he rocked his hips, pushing him deeper, revelling in the feel of Connor's firm body against his own, the smooth skin under his hand, the heat moving inside him...

“You're amazing, Connor,” he breathed, not knowing if the android could hear him. He'd never meant those words more than he did now. "You have no fucking idea..."

Connor’s LED burned blue, and he kissed up Gavin's neck, sending even more shivers through him. Releasing his hand, Connor wrapped an arm around his thigh instead, holding him firmly in place. 

“Gavin..." His voice was filled with pleasure and a hiss of static left his throat. 

That sound was fucking music.

Thrusting even deeper into him, Connor's pace turned relentless, his angle adjusted to slam into that spot inside Gavin. 

“Fucking… Connor, yes...!” He held onto him, a stream of expletives leaving his lips as Connor railed into him, again and again. 

He didn't slow down. Gavin didn't fucking want him to. He hadn't wanted anyone like this in... fuck, he'd _never_ wanted anyone like this.

He squeezed his arms around the android, pressing his face against his neck, letting Connor's sweet scent consume him. His muscles tightened, nearing release.

Slipping his hand away from Gavin's shoulder, Connor reached between them. He barely had a chance to give him a few strong strokes. It was all he needed. 

Gavin’s back arched. He cried out, his orgasm hitting him so fiercely, his entire body shook with the intensity of it.

His LED blazing a vivid blue, Connor followed him almost immediately, biting into Gavin's shoulder and growling as he buried himself deep inside him.

His hips pushed forward a few more times, rhythm lost, and Gavin couldn't believe how amazing Connor's vibrating body felt in his arms.

“Holy fuck, Connor…” he said hoarsely, kissing the side of the android’s head and stroking his hair gently. 

If he could come up with a more coherent fucking sentence, he’d say it, but his mind was amazingly blank. 

When Connor finally pulled back, the look of complete contentment on his face was... it was the best thing Gavin had ever fucking seen. 

The android ran his fingers through the damp hair sticking to Gavin’s forehead, his LED flickering yellow. He dipped down, kissing him softly and carefully pulling out of him. 

Resting his forehead against Gavin's, he gave a disbelieving, breathless chuckle. “That was fun.”

That was a fucking understatement, but Gavin simply grinned, enjoying the moment. He tugged Connor down until he was lying next to him, flattening his hand against Connor’s chest. The vibrations tickled his palm. “You feel so fucking _good_. I can't believe you've never done that before.”

Connor kissed the scar on his nose. “Well, we’re definitely doing it again so...”

Gavin looked at him. “How many times do you think we can before we absolutely have to leave?” he asked, challengingly. 

“I would love for us to find out,” Connor said with a sly smile.

Fuck, yes! He was ready to handcuff Connor to the fucking bed until...

A phone started vibrating in Connor’s jeans pocket. 

“Ah, fuck. Ignore it, it’ll eat into our fun time,” groaned Gavin, kissing his shoulder. “And please get your fucking jeans off.”

Connor chuckled, sliding his legs the rest of the way out of his jeans. “It could have something to do with the case.” He shook them and his phone fell out.

“It’s Hank.”

Of course it was. “Perfect fucking timing,” Gavin grumbled.

Connor answered the call, putting it on loudspeaker. “Hi Hank, how are you?”

“I’m… fine,” Anderson’s curious voice came from the phone. “Connor, what's up with you? You sound like you’re under water.”

“Oh, Gavin and I have just finished-”

_Wait a fucking-_

Gavin nearly jumped on the android, covering his mouth with his palm. “Are you fucking serious?” he hissed urgently.

Connor knocked his hand away, covering the receiver and raising an eyebrow. “Do you think I'm that stupid?" he whispered back.

“What's that prick saying, Con?”

Fucking loudspeaker. 

If Anderson ever caught wind of what they were doing, Gavin had no doubt the man would literally skin him alive.

“This prick can hear you, Anderson,” Gavin mumbled, lying back against the bed with an arm over his face.

“We’re all impressed, Reed,” he snorted. 

“Did you manage to find out anything?” asked Connor, changing the subject and relaxing back next to Gavin, looking like he hadn't just finished railing him into the mattress. 

Gavin huffed childishly, swiping his t-shirt from the floor and cleaning himself off.

This had better be worth it. 

“Didn't get anywhere looking at Jones senior, but his wife was another story. She died a few years ago in a car accident. Only survivor was her nephew.”

“Shit,” Gavin said, straightening up, exchanging glances with Connor. “Sam. That's the same accident that killed his parents. How the fuck did he survive?”

“I pulled up the incident report. It was an old car, none of the safety features of the newer models. Alvaro Garcia was driving, swerved to avoid a drunk idiot who’d drifted into his lane. The thing was ready to combust but a PL600 android was passing the scene and managed to pull the kid out before it happened. The others weren't so lucky.”

“Fuck,” muttered Gavin. 

“Jones junior began building a steady record after that. Not that he was doing great before. Jones senior fell of the radar. Turns out his wife was the breadwinner. She owned a club in the centre, the husband managed it off the books, although from what I’ve heard, he was just the face. She was the brains. Seems they were a good team. One of the rookies used to go there a lot during her college days, says Jennifer Jones even named the place for her husband.”

“Club Sand,” Connor shook his head, looking quickly at Gavin. “There were pictures of her outside of a club in the house.”

“Wait,” Gavin said, suddenly confused. “That’s where Dillon has been selling. How the fuck does vice not know about this?”

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” agreed Anderson. “Looks like they were too focused on the Jones’ kid to look into the club itself. After his mother's death, the place started going under. A competitor took interest almost immediately. 

“Apparently it was a brutal takeover. They didn’t even bother changing the club’s name. If Jones had any rights to it, he never fought them for-" Anderson stopped short. “Wait... what did you say about a house? Whose house?”

Fuck.

“Doesn't matter,” Connor waved off.

“It damn well does matter, Connor,” growled Anderson. “If Reed is making you do shit...”

“Oi!” He wasn’t about to get the blame for that fucking fiasco.

“Hank, do you really think Gavin would ever intentionally break the law?” asked Connor, rolling his eyes. “His unpleasant attitude aside...”

Gavin pinched him and Connor grabbed his fingers, grinning.

He'd barely snatched them back when a heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. “No. You on the other hand...”

Gavin gave Connor a smug look, snickering when Connor flipped him off.

“What happened after the club was taken over?” Connor asked, nipping Gavin's leg.

“Nothing. Sandy Jones became a ghost and, other than the guardianship paperwork for the Garcia kid, no other records exist.”

“So, this can be Dillon acting alone, or acting with his father,” sighed Connor, disappointedly.

Gavin had to agree. It was useful information when it came to motive, but they weren't any further forward. He could still be getting his supply from anywhere. They needed more.

“We'll just have to wait for tonight. If he's out selling, he'll be picked up and hopefully we can get our answers from him.”

“Well on your way to winning the bet, Reed.”

“Bet doesn't mean shit now, Anderson,” he said tiredly. “That kid, Sam. There's a strong chance someone in that house is hurting him. We get Dillon, we can make his life safer.”

“I hear you,” said Anderson quietly. “Strong incentive to catch the prick.”

“Yeah.”

Connor's eyes flickered between Gavin and the phone.

Fuck, this might have been the longest they'd spoken without throwing at least ten insults at each other. 

“Thanks for looking into that, Hank,” smiled Connor, the static finally draining from his voice. “Sounds like your rookies aren't so bad after all.”

“Don't call them _my rookies_ ,” he grumbled. “Don't know how some of them made it through the academy, but I thought the same about Reed too so...” his tone was light-hearted.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you too, _Hank_ ,” Gavin found himself grinning at jibe.

Gavin's phone buzzed from the floor. He reached over to check it.

“Go get the bad guys,” chuckled Anderson. “Don’t do anything stupid. I'm talking to you, Con. It's like you go looking for trouble.”

babymaker: _complaint in from a mrs miller_

babymaker: _no relation of mine_

babymaker: _want to guess what it was about?_

Fucking perfect...

tbag: _ooo do tell_

babymaker: _not my place t_

babymaker: _it’s going nowhere, anti-android nonsense, but interesting_

gstring: _busy_

babymaker: _omfg it’s true_

tbag: _cm on! ill find out on my own_

babymaker: _i dont believe it_

gstring: _fk u both_

tbag: _ <3 _

babymaker: _not what i meant when i said to make things right but..._

gstring: _ye I no_

If he didn’t love those guys, he’d have to beat them into the ground.

“We'll get dressed and head out shortly,” confirmed Connor.

Wait, what?

Gavin tore his eyes away from his phone, kicking Connor hard.

Connor grimaced at him, rubbing his leg.

“Get dressed? What the fuck are you two doing?”

Gavin and Connor stared at each other.

“We're fucking each other, Anderson,” said Gavin finally, shrugging at Connor. “What the fuck do you think we’re doing?”

There was a pause before he answered. “Well, now I think you’re fucking each other,” Anderson chuckled. “If I didn't think Connor had better taste.”

So much for no insults. He knew Anderson would never believe him.

“Goodbye Hank, we'll talk tomorrow,” Connor smirked, ending the call.

Gavin glared at him. “You're actually trying to get me killed, aren't you?”

“Fairly certain he'd kill me too, Gavin,” he smiled, putting the phone to the side, crawling over him and straddling his hips. “For my clear lack of good judgement.”

He was getting another hickey for that one.

*

Connor lay on his side. He held Gavin's back against his chest, pushing deep inside of him, revelling in the loud moans spilling from the man's mouth.

“Connor." His hand reached around, gripping Connor's hair. “Fuck, I'm so close...”

Picking up the pace, Connor's hand moved over the detective's dick in time with his thrusts.

“Me too,” he breathed against Gavin's neck. He'd been close for a while, working to stave it off until Gavin joined him. He changed his angle, and the hand in his hair tightened.

“Fuck, yes,” Gavin groaned huskily. “That's it, right there... Fuck!”

Connor made sure to hit that spot over and over again, encouraged by the beautiful sounds the detective made.

“Connor, I'm...”

Gavin tugged at Connor’s hair as he came hard in his arms. 

Memorising the feel of the detective's muscles tensing, Connor pushed inside him, chasing his own release.

It hit him with force, and his body and mind flooded with pleasure. “Gavin!" he moaned loudly, burying himself deep in the man.

His cooling systems whirred loudly and he heaved in air, holding a breathless Gavin against him.

Stroking his fingers down his chest, Connor smiled to himself, nuzzling against the detective's neck.

Gavin chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair before gripping Connor's arms, pulling them around him. “We're a fucking mess, Con.”

They'd been at this for over three hours, taking turns exploring and pleasuring each other. Although their movements had slowed, neither had even mentioned stopping.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but even Gavin's energy was incredible. His recovery time almost matched Connor's. It was impressive.

“We're definitely going to have to burn these sheets,” said Connor, only partially teasing. They were filthy.

Gavin pulled away to grab something semi-clean off the floor. “Fuck that, we should frame them,” he grinned, leaning back against Connor.

He took Connor's hand and began wiping each digit on the t-shirt.

A loud jingle broke the peace. It was coming from Connor's phone on the bedside table.

He sighed.

It wasn't long enough.

“That’s time,” he muttered heavily.

Gavin's hand tightened on his. “Alright,” he said. He reached out and switched off the alarm, turning himself around to face him, hissing when Connor came out of him.

The detective's face was flushed red, his skin shining. He really was beautiful like this.

_//Backup image saved**_

His memory was swimming with images of today.

“Sorry,” said Gavin, with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. “I might have added a few more marks.” He stroked Connor's skin, just under his jaw.

“Don't worry, so have I,” muttered Connor, leaning in and kissing him, his sensors immediately memorising every single trace of Gavin.

Gavin pushed him away, an eyebrow raised. “Excuse me?”

Connor kissed his nose, grinning, combing his fingers through Gavin's sticky hair. “I may have bitten into your shoulder too hard a few times. That's payback for the hickeys.”

“You are such a fucking child,” chuckled Gavin, shuffling closer to him. “But fuck it. I'll take your bite marks over the bruises any day.”

He playfully bit into Connor's shoulder. “Do we really need to go tonight? Maybe Vice suddenly got smart.”

Connor sighed. “They didn't bother looking into Dillon's history with the club he was selling at. If we’re not there, I doubt this will be solved.”

Groaning, Gavin leaned against him. “Would it be awful if-?”

"However that sentence ends, I'm sure it would be awful.”

Truthfully, he didn't want to move either. He hugged the man close, their legs intertwined and kissed him lazily. 

Maybe Connor was imagining it, but he could swear the man was getting hard again.

“Really, detective?” he smiled, raising his leg between Gavin's.

“I think you broke me,” teased Gavin quietly, rolling his hips against him. “I’ve never done this before. Spent the day just... being with someone. My body is in fucking heaven.”

Connor thought for a moment. “We could probably get another fifteen minutes...”

That seemed to be exactly what the man wanted to hear.

“I'll take it,” said Gavin, grinning widely, pulling him close and kissing him heatedly. His hand ran between them, holding them both in his hand and stroking them gently. “Fuck, you really are amazing.”

Connor's LED brightened at the praise and he smiled against him.

Pushing him flat on his back, Gavin kissed over his chest, his tongue circling his thirium pump. Connor inhaled deeply, the sensation sending waves of pleasure over him.

Then it stopped, and the man pulled his head up and looked at him.

“Listen Con...” started Gavin hesitantly. “If this is going to be the last time we… I need you to do something. If you’re okay with it…” 

Connor frowned. “What is it?

“Can you deactivate your skin?”

“Why?” Connor asked quickly. Nobody had ever asked him to do that before. Outside of his upgrades and maintenance at least.

“Please.”

“That’s not an answer,” retorted Connor, being purposefully evasive.

“Just do it, dipshit,” he grumbled, kissing the centre of his chest. “I want… I _need_ to see you.”

Months ago, Connor would have refused, thought it was some kind of trick. Even a week ago, he would have had suspicions. 

But they were here, and maybe it was illogical, but Connor felt completely safe.

“Okay,” he shrugged, allowing the skin around his middle to go. He watched Gavin closely as his torso bared, revealing his chassis.

Gavin’s curious eyes followed his skin as it disappeared over his face.

“Woah,” he muttered, staring at him. “That's...”

“Scary?” Connor offered with an unsteady smile, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

A million doubts raced through his mind. This was as ‘android’ as he’d been around Gavin, or anybody that he worked with, for that matter. If this put him off, it would mar all the time they’d spent together. And for what? Because Connor felt comfortable? Because Gavin was curious as to who he’d been spending his time with? 

But while he was wasting time doubting the last few days, he really should have been paying attention to the detective, because Gavin's eyes were suddenly alight. He ducked his head, his mouth finding the indentation in his hip, running tongue all the way up to his shoulder.

“Fuck!” Connor hissed, his pleasure responses immediately firing. His hand found a fistful of the man's hair. “Gavin! Shit, that feels…”

Gavin groaned as Connor’s grip tightened and he scraped his teeth against the seam in his shoulder. 

“Your body's a fucking map, Con,” he grinned, his voice still thick. "After all this... how the fuck could I be scared of you?"

Gavin found another indentation in his chassis and Connor had to bite his lip, trying to stay in control. 

The man leaned up, pressing soft kisses against Connor’s face. “I get it,” he said quietly. “You’re an android. It’s pretty hard to escape with that glowing light on your head. Seeing you like this?” He kissed a bundle of broken blue nerves he'd left against his neck the night before. “It's still fucking you. Smart, funny and so fucking hot. You fucking protected me, probably saved my life. If you think you’re gonna scare me, you’ll have to try a lot harder than this.”

He kissed him fully on the mouth and Connor’s mind was reeling. In his words, in the sensation of Gavin’s lips on his bare chassis, everything. It was incredible. 

_//Gavin is incredible_

The detective pulled back. “And if this is going to be the last time we get to do this, then I owe you some appreciation. A fucking ‘thank you’,” he grinned, moving himself down Connor’s body. “You’ve made what was going to be a shitty week bearable. Because of you, we have a chance of solving this, protecting a kid and putting a dangerous man behind bars. Because of you, the man who was going to fucking haunt me for the rest of my career might actually lay off. And you think showing me under your skin would fucking change that? Con... you’re fucking perfect.”

_//Backup audio saved**_

Those words. Connor wished he could respond, but Gavin’s tongue dipped into his thirium pump and without the barrier of his skin, the pleasure he received from it made his processors stutter. He’d never felt anything like this before. 

And it didn’t stop.

Gavin found every dent, every separation that was now clearly visible on his chassis, paying attention to each one, until Connor’s nerves were firing fervently and the static emitting from his throat was uncontrollable.

It wasn't like before. It _felt_ different. His nerves were flat against his shell, and when the detective’s tongue hit a bundle, it lit up his mind. His LED was bound to be burning a hole at his temple, it was shining so brightly. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted the detective closer.

His thighs squeezed around Gavin's shoulders. “Get up here,” he breathed shakily, but the detective didn’t move. Instead, he sucked against the edge of his thirium pump. “Gavin!”

It was too much, but not enough. He felt like he was going to explode. Or at least go into an emergency shutdown.

He pushed Gavin away from him, despite his body’s protests. “I need you,” he said, his voice taking on a more dangerous tone than he had meant.

But the infuriating human simply smirked at him, his face flushed red. “I’m right here.”

Right there.

Connor shoved him until he was lying against the mattress, leaning on his elbows. He quickly straddled his hips, feeling his hardness underneath him. Connor pushed back, until the detective filled him completely.

Pure relief flooded him.

It took a second for his mind to catch up, the intensity was so unfamiliar, but when it did, he carefully began moving, processing, memorising, as much as he could. 

Gavin sat up slowly, holding Connor’s waist and plunging his tongue into a crevice at his neck, kissing it hard. Connor had to grab onto the man's shoulders because thought for sure he was going to shut down right then and there.

His fingers slipped into the detective's hair, holding him tightly and grinding down, ready to burst with how brilliantly _new_ it felt. 

Then Gavin took over, guiding Connor's hips, the pace quickening, thrusting into him over and over as he mouthed at the sensitive nerves, driving Connor out of his mind until-

_//**_

His pleasure responses sparked, flooding his processors in heavy waves and Gavin’s name left his lips fiercely as his whole body vibrated in the detective’s strong arms.

“Holy fuck..." hissed Gavin. "Connor!”

He could barely hear Gavin but he could feel him, one arm wrapped around Connor’s waist, the other around his shoulder, pulling him down onto him, burying himself as he climaxed.

The man in his arms trembled, his forehead pressed into Connor’s neck. Ragged breathing filled the air, matched only by the loud whirr of Connor’s cooling systems.

For a short time, neither of them spoke. They simply held each other, coming back down.

Eventually Gavin pulled back, staring at him with half lidded eyes. He took Connor's face in his hands, and pressed a kiss high on his brow, where Connor knew a series of numbers was printed on his chassis.

“Was that… a physical enough ‘thank you’?” he asked, breathlessly, still somehow able to give a cheeky grin. 

Connor laughed. The man was unbelievable. "I suppose it was." 

Letting his skin reactivate, he pulled away from Gavin, shifting off of his lap just long enough to grab the man and pull them both down onto the bed.

He wrapped his arms around him, squashing the man into his chest.

“Oi, get off me!” laughed Gavin, trying to wriggle free with the little energy he had. “Fucking superpowers.”

“Is it a matter of pride?” asked Connor, kissing his hair. The static in his voice was the worst it had been. He’d have to get that checked out.

Gavin relaxed, looking up at him. “What?”

“Being so focused on making me feel good. Not caring about yourself.”

Gavin seemed to think for a moment before shrugging, nuzzling his face against Connor’s chest. “It’s just polite…” he said, his voice muffled. Then he leaned up, resting his chin on him, smiling uneasily. “And, yeah, it’s a matter of pride. If you… you know, decide to do this with anyone else…”

_//Negative_

Connor shut that thought down with a nip to the man's side.

“Ow, fuck!” he laughed. “Fine. I want you to have a good experience of this, and I want to… be the one who gave you that. I don't fucking know..."

That filled Connor with an incredible amount of warmth.

"So, was it good?" Gavin asked, a little awkwardly. "Without your skin?”

“It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It was overwhelming,” Connor said, honestly. 

“You didn’t enjoy it?” asked Gavin, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “Because it looked like you were enjoying it. Sounded like it too.”

“I loved it, Gavin,” he said, squeezing the man more. “If making me feel good was your mission, you certainly accomplished it.”

“Yes, I'm fucking winning tonight!” he grinned, pressing a hard kiss against Connor's chest. “Right, how late are we?”

“Very,” Connor said. "But if we rush, we can still make it for opening."

The detective shuffled to the edge of the bed and jumped to his feet. He held out his hand. “Then, Connor. Let’s go dance and catch a fucking bad guy.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: I'm sleeping with your partner  
> Hank: You're an idiot  
> Connor: I'm sorry, it's true  
> Hank: I was talking to you
> 
>  
> 
> Gavin would absolutely be competitive in every single way!
> 
>  
> 
>    
> Well, let's go catch a fucking bad guy!
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He slowly pushed the mirror back up. “So, you wouldn’t prefer it?” he asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “If I was human, I mean. If I bled red, had a heartbeat?”
> 
> “Fuck no. I like you this pretty,” Gavin teased, biting his lip. He ran his eyes over Connor's body, slowly moving in closer, his tone turning seductive. “Then again, imagine if I’d asked you to remove your skin as a human. We would have made such a mess…” 
> 
> A low, vampiric growl left his throat as he bit down playfully on Connor's neck. “Well," he said, leaning up to mutter in his ear, " _more_ of a mess..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this took so long. I keep jumping between writing the last chapters now. 
> 
> Here is a chapter of two idiots being idiots. This was a few paragraphs of the next chapter that somehow grew into this.
> 
> I did nothing to stop it...

Chapter 15

“Nobody in the world should look like you.”

“And how is it I look?” chuckled Connor, shrugging the soft, black jacket over his shoulders. 

“Like a hot as fuck badass,” Gavin grinned, twirling the beanie on his finger, his other hand trapped in the sling, “but the kind you could take home to meet the parents.”

Connor rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling as he took the beanie from the detective and tugged it over his head. “Since neither of us have parents, that's going to be a little difficult.”

He pulled down the mirror, checking to make sure it was sitting properly. He would look far less conspicuous scanning faces if they couldn't see his flashing yellow LED in the dark nightclub.

He may have been aiming for unassuming but his skinny jeans, and the scoop-neck red t-shirt he'd borrowed from Gavin, seemed to be having the opposite effect. They’d only been sitting in the stationary car for ten minutes, the detective hadn't stopped staring at him. 

He quite liked this result, especially since he could still feel the ghost of Gavin's fingers all over his chassis after the activities of the day-

Gavin reached over and pinched his cheek. "What you thinking?"

Hm. He'd forgotten.

_//Gavin gets bored easily_

“Detective, can't you sit still for just a moment?" he drawled, affection leaking into his tone. 

“Nope, and if you’re trying to pass for human, you’ve failed," smirked Gavin, pulling the material down over Connor's eyes. "You are far too fucking pretty.”

Connor laughed, fixing the beanie back.

The compliments were still a little difficult to get used to. They often came when they were being thrown in his face by officers as reasons to dislike him, but hearing them flow so easily from Gavin was... nice. He liked it.

He slowly pushed the mirror back up. “So, you wouldn’t prefer it?” he asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “If I was human, I mean. If I bled red, had a heartbeat?”

“Fuck no. I like you this pretty,” Gavin teased, biting his lip. He ran his eyes over Connor's body, slowly moving in closer, his tone turning seductive. “Then again, imagine if I’d asked you to remove your skin as a human. We would have made such a mess…” 

A low, vampiric growl left his throat as he bit down playfully on Connor's neck. “Well," he said, leaning up to mutter in his ear, " _more_ of a mess..."

His nerves sparked with a satisfying heat as the detective’s stubble grazed him. 

“I'm not afraid to stake you, Gavin," he whispered, joining him in the childishness. He was a little embarrassed to hear the slight static in his voice already. 

“Hm, that a threat or a promise?” asked Gavin suggestively, his breath almost impossibly hot on his skin. 

"Maybe both," challenged Connor, recognising the innuendo.

"Tease," smirked Gavin. He rested his hand high on Connor’s thigh and suddenly his tongue pressed against a crevice in his neck. Connor’s fingers quickly found themselves nestled in the man’s hair. 

Gavin pulled away, just enough to kiss him softly.

“For what it’s worth,” he added quietly, their lips still touching, his hand sliding upwards to press against Connor’s chest, “you don't need a heartbeat. I told you before, you're fucking perfect.”

"I thought that was just the sex talking," Connor said gently, draping an arm over Gavin's shoulder, the faux leather jacket cool under his palm. "You've been very flattering. I'm not used to it."

Gavin gave a loud, blissful groan, rubbing his forehead against Connor’s. 

“Better get used to it, dipshit. You're the one who did this to me." He tugged at Connor’s t-shirt. “We were so fucking good at being assholes to each other and you had to ruin it. It's not even been a week and you’ve got me behaving like a lovesick teenager. You really are a fucking terror.”

"Lovesick teenager?" repeated Connor, tilting his head.

Was that what this was?

Gavin's heartrate increased. "Don't read into that," he said quickly. "My body is so sated, my mouth doesn't know what it's saying."

_//False_

“Liar,” Connor smiled. He pulled his hand back to gently trace the scar on Gavin’s nose, before giving him a strong prod to his bruised cheek. “Besides, you were the asshole. I chose the high road and simply ignored you.”

"Uh," Gavin shoved him back playfully, "remember when you put me in the hospital? With a concussion? That seems like the ultimate asshole behaviour.”

“Will you ever let that go? The gun to my head was a strong incentive to give you that concussion,” grinned Connor, flicking Gavin’s ear. “And I haven’t hurt you intentionally since I deviated. Not yet, anyway.”

“I don't know about that,” he said, looking suddenly smug. Gavin relaxed back in the driver’s seat and gave him a wink. “My body is all kinds of sore right now.”

Connor felt his face flush, the thirium rushing through him at the reminder.

Hm. Well played. Gavin won that round.

Only, he didn't understand why he was still smiling.

It was illogical just how happy he was.

They were only sitting in a car, talking to each other, and he'd never felt so content.

Of course, he had felt happiness before.

When he had received his badge after passing the detectives exams. When Hank had offered his home and his friendship to him. 

The small moments of validation he received from officers like Chris and Tina created so much positive feedback, he’d never be able to express it.

But this was different. It was overwhelming yet satisfying. Exciting and calming.

And the source was Gavin Reed. If someone had told him a week ago that the detective would be the cause of all of these confusing feelings, he never would have believed it.

It didn’t make sense.

Connor glanced back at the man who was now frowning deeply, muttering to himself as he awkwardly tried to untangle his shirt collar and his sling one-handed.

He reached over, shooing Gavin’s hand away. He pulled the collar up, flattening it down properly.

“The case is almost over. Remind me again why I need to wear this stupid thing?” Gavin huffed, resting his warm, bristly cheek against the back of Connor’s hand as he adjusted the sling. 

The brief contact sent a flurry of pleasure responses through his system.

_Completely illogical._

“We’re only _hoping_ this might be the lead we’re looking for,” Connor answered, letting him go. “If Dillon doesn’t give up the name of his supplier, we’re back to where we started.” 

Gavin fidgeted a little in his seat, looking out of the window. “Yeah, that would be terrible,” he muttered.

_//False_

Connor gave a soft sigh. He slid the purple pebble out of his pocket, twirling it between his fingers.

This was stupid. 

They should be able to talk about whatever it was that had changed between them, but…

It was one thing to enjoy each other’s company while they were alone, in their little bubble. Going back to work, being around other people again, who knew how it would be? If anyone found out about this...

He didn’t want the kind of nastiness that he dealt with every day to become Gavin’s reality too.

Connor's processors flooded with negative feedback at the mere thought of it. It was- 

The second pinch to his cheek should have been expected. "Oi, I don't need to see your light to know that I don't like wherever your big brain just went." 

“You're such a brat,” Connor muttered, with a smile. “We should go. The club has been open for twenty minutes. There will be enough of a crowd for us to blend in.”

“Like you could blend in anywhere, prick,” snorted Gavin, opening the car door.

Oh, it didn’t matter what happened after this, he certainly wasn’t going to settle for that. 

He left the car and quickly moved around it, pushing a confused, wide-eyed Gavin back against the door he’d just closed, leaning into his space.

“I’m sorry, detective,” he said dangerously, ignoring the spark of interest in the man's face and the hands resting on his waist, “but you’re not getting away with that. I’ve grown used to a certain calibre of insults. Let’s not regress.”

“Wha-” Gavin started, then realisation struck him. He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head. “Are you serious? Fine then. _Adorable_ prick. Happy?”

_//Gavin Reed makes him incredibly happy_

Connor smiled at the knowledge, grabbing him by his jacket and pressing a quick kiss against his lips, enjoying the detective's gasp of surprise. “Yes,” he said softly, before turning and walking away.

It took a moment for Gavin to recover, and the man jogged to catch up with him. He nudged into Connor with his shoulder, a look of amusement on his face. “Weirdo.”

*

It was fucking strange.

The short walk to the club had Gavin feeling more anxious with every step. This wasn't exactly dangerous. He'd been in much tougher situations. They both had. 

It wasn't as if there would be a shoot out. Fuck, he didn't even have his gun. It was a kid with some drugs they were after and the pricks the DPD insisted on calling 'detectives' would be the ones making the arrest. Gavin and Connor were only there to make sure it all went down as planned. Practically acting as surveillance. What did he have to be nervous about?

But he was. 

It didn’t make any fucking sense. 

He glanced over at Connor. His pale skin glowed under the streetlights, contrasting with his dark clothes. His black skinny jeans moulded to his long legs, while Gavin's red t-shirt and black jacket hung a little loosely on Connor's slim frame. 

Gavin had gone to plenty of nightclubs in his twenties. If someone like Connor had shown up there, he’d have been all over him like a rash. 

What was he supposed to do if someone came on to Connor? Or, fuck, if Connor was interested in someone-

Gavin blinked.

Holy shit, he was _jealous._

The thought slammed into him like he'd wandered into fucking traffic. 

He’d been jealous at work before. Absolutely. That was how he lived. How he thrived. But… romantically?

That was possessive. Ugly. He wasn’t that type of guy and he definitely wasn’t about to drape himself all over Connor like an entitled princess.

No. That was crazy. This was a fucking case.

But the idea of someone having their grabby, uncaring hands on Connor… Fuck, it made his skin crawl. 

He didn't even know what they were to each other, but... 

Fuck it. Gavin was ready to be a selfish, jealous fucking freak for this.

Shit.

“Hey, how do you feel about PDA? Public displays of affection?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Flicking his pebble into the air, Connor caught it without looking. “What do you mean?”

Gavin chewed his lip. What did he have to lose? “Connor, you’re looking fucking hot. I don’t want anyone… I mean, people are going to be swarming you all night if I don't...”

“Mark your territory?” grinned Connor, his entire face brightening in amusement.

And Connor called _him_ a brat.

“I was trying really fucking hard to avoid saying that, but yes. Apparently, I'm feeling a little… territorial tonight.” Fuck, he felt like such a creep.

“I honestly don’t think I look as hot as you claim but,” Connor said, still cheery as he slid his hand into Gavin's, “I’m all yours.”

All his.

Butterflies swarmed in Gavin’s stomach and his facial muscles actually hurt from trying not to smile. He took a deep, shaky breath and as their fingers laced together. “Um, yeah... okay, then. Good.”

_All. His._

It was scary just how much he wanted that to be true. 

That stupidly beautiful, know-it-all, totally bossy, could literally snap Gavin in half with no effort at all, android. 

And he’d had the cheek to ask Gavin if he would prefer him to be human. Connor could have been a fucking three headed alien, Gavin had no doubt he would still have it bad. Fuck, he was head over fucking heels at this point.

He was such a fucking coward.

He should just ask Connor if this was a one-time thing. 

If Connor only wanted to enjoy his first sexual experience, experiment with his new nerve upgrade with no strings attached, Gavin wasn’t going to deny him that. 

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a stabbing sensation in his chest. 

He instinctively squeezed the android’s hand before bringing it up to his lips, giving it a quick kiss.

Shit. This could be over far too fucking soon.

Where was the world's smallest violin playing the world’s saddest song for the world’s biggest idiot?

“We're idiots,” breathed Connor, and Gavin’s heart skipped a beat. 

Was the android reading his thoughts?

Suddenly he was aware of the loud thudding of heavy dance music spilling from the red door across the street. Outside of it was a small queue of laughing, chatting people, all dressed up, waiting behind a velvet rope as the bouncer checked IDs. 

When had they reached the club? He hadn't even noticed they had stopped walking.

“Why are we idiots-" he started to ask, but he followed Connor’s eyes up to the signage above the club. “Shit.”

The gold-plated letters reading ‘Club Sand’ hung brightly on the black stonework, and twisted in between the two words was a very familiar, off-centred hourglass.

“The logo of the club is identical to the one on the bags Dillon is dealing,” muttered Connor, in frustration. He gripped the purple stone in his hand.

Gavin shook his head. “Con, we’ve been on this case for, what, three days? We didn’t have all the pieces. Those pricks in Vice have been on this for months, and they were either too incompetent or didn’t give enough of a shit to put it all together.”

Connor didn’t look convinced. “We’re smarter than them, Gavin,” he argued. “We should have come here sooner. Looked into Dillon’s history with the club. We should have-”

“Don’t do this to yourself. We don't even know what this means,” Gavin said, tugging his hand out of Connor’s and taking the android by the shoulder. “It takes time for the clues to start falling into place.”

It was easy to forget that, with all of his programming, Connor was less than a year into field experience. He was still just a rookie in some respects. This was part of the job.

“The only reason we have this lead is because we took a massive risk. We hadn't even seen one of those bags before this morning,” he said. "Vice have been stingy on intel from the start. We’re smart, but how the fuck could we have known this before today?”

Connor raised his hand and an image displayed itself on top of his skin, a small rectangle showing a piece of paper with scribbles of times and dates on it. Gavin had only seen him do that once or twice before. It was pretty fucking cool.

“Tonight was the first night on the list.” The image disappeared.

“See?” Gavin took Connor’s hand again and squeezed it gently. “Even if we had the information right from the start, we would still need something on him. We found the information this morning and he will be in custody by the end of the night. That's what matters.”

Connor sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You’re right.”

“I love it when you say that,” snorted Gavin, nudging him.

Connor glanced at him, his eyes running over him with a soft smile on his lips. He leaned in, pressing a kiss against his temple. “You look good tonight, detective.”

The sudden change of conversation stalled Gavin’s brain for a full five seconds. Or maybe it was five minutes. Did the android know how fucking smooth he was? 

He tightened his grip on Connor’s hand, clearing his throat. “So, are we going to go in or just stand here and wait for the action to come to us?”

“Alright,” smirked Connor, running his fingers over Gavin’s forearm. “I don’t think I could handle your cheeks going any _redder_ anyway.”

Gavin pressed his lips together as he recognised the words he’d said to Connor at the bar. “Let’s just go, you adorable fucking prick.”

*

The club was extravagant on the inside. Large and dark, with bright flashing lights and a sound system that had Connor’s bio-components shuddering unpleasantly inside him. There were plenty of imposing gold features, including a ridiculous chandelier lit with dim red bulbs and a massive hourglass framed in a circle behind the DJ booth.

People were dancing, shouting at each other over the deafening music, and Connor’s sensors picked up the excessive amounts of perfume, aftershave and alcohol that filled the air.

It definitely had energy, but Connor wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Not a fan?” asked Gavin loudly over the noise, a knowing look on his face.

“Why are there so many people here?” asked Connor, pressing closer to the detective. If drinking was the aim, he would personally much rather the bar they were at earlier in the week. It might have been busy, but this place was claustrophobic. “The floor is sticky and I can barely hear you. It shouldn’t be this popular.”

“I don't know,” laughed Gavin, wrapping his arm around Connor’s waist as a small group made their way past them to the dancefloor. “I used to come to these places years ago. After a lot of drinks, dancing with a bunch of strangers wasn’t so bad. Seems like a fucking nightmare now though.”

Connor had to agree. “What part of dancing with strangers is appealing?”

“Well... part of it is just fun,” he said slowly. “The other part is that it is easy to get laid.”

Oh. 

Connor frowned, reaching out to take Gavin’s hip, glaring at the people passing them. “Humans have strange rituals when it comes to sex.”

“Says the android who literally carried me to my bedroom for the longest session of my life,” he muttered, but Connor’s focused hearing picked it up.

That still didn’t make any sense to him.

“Gavin, you are very attractive. You could have your pick of men,” he said, even if the idea of Gavin with someone else made him grip his hip a little tighter. “With your kind of energy, you should have had plenty of 'long sessions'. Why haven't you done that with anyone before?"

Gavin looked at him, unimpressed.

Well...

“Technically, it _is_ my turn for a question,” said Connor with a smirk.

Gavin glared for a few seconds before growling, shaking his head.

“Whatever, you little shit,” he mumbled, but still loud enough for Connor to hear. “Fuck it. It's because, with you, I can relax, just be myself, no pressure. Con, this thing we have, whatever the fuck it is, is actually _fun_. It's like we have this connec-... No, no, that’s not what I mean… well, I absolutely fucking do but…” He groaned frustratedly, then took a deep breath. “Being alone with you doesn’t feel the same as being alone with anybody else. That’s why. Next question is mine. Fuck, I need a drink.”

It was a quick succession of nervously stuttered words that took Connor by complete surprise, and was swiftly covered up by a red-faced Gavin pulling him towards a less occupied corner of the bar. “Want something?”

Connor shook his head, still trying to process the detective's tirade.

“Whisky, neat,” he called to the bartender. 

“Please,” added Connor, automatically.

The bartender nodded, giving Connor a wink and a smile, leaving to make the drink.

Gavin chuckled, shaking his head and tapping his fingers against the bar. “What did I tell you? They’ll fucking fawn over you.”

“I don’t think she was winking at me flirtatiously,” said Connor, ducking his head and nudging Gavin with his elbow. “Maybe it was an approval of my choice of date.” 

Gavin snorted. “Whatever, pretty boy.”

That comment made it impossible to resist. Connor pressed another lazy kiss against the scruff of the man’s cheek, and the blush on his face worsened. 

“Tell me,” Connor said curiously, glancing around the bar, “what do I do when someone tries to come on to you?” 

“Not gonna happen,” mumbled Gavin, scratching his face to hide a bashful grin, accepting the drink when it was placed down in front of him.

Gavin swirled the whisky before taking a sip. “Fuck. This tastes amazing.”

“Don’t enjoy it too much,” warned Connor, prodding his side. “We actually have a job to do.”

“Fair enough, barbie.” Gavin gestured over to the bartender, who wandered back over. “What’s your name?”

“Shauna, sweetheart,” she said with a pleasant smile. “Anything else for you?”

_//Shauna Evans, twenty-nine years old, bartender, no criminal record_

“How long have you worked here, Shauna?”

“Gosh, it must be about five years now,” she said cheerfully. “Why?”

Gavin and Connor exchanged glances, before Connor discreetly pulled his badge from his pocket. “My name is Connor, and this is Detective Reed. Is there somewhere quiet where we could talk?”

“My manager is off-site tonight…” Shauna faltered.

“Don’t worry,” Connor said, offering a smile. “Nobody here is in any trouble. We just have a few questions about the previous owner.”

“Oh, you mean JJ?” asked Shauna, her expression lightening again. “Sure.” 

She nodded her head towards a door at the side of the bar before signalling to another bartender. The man looked curious, but nodded, continuing making drinks.

Shauna ushered them into what turned out to be the stock room. 

The brightness was harsh compared with the darkness of the club, but Connor welcomed whatever barrier he could get from the din. The clean white walls were lined with shelves packed with boxes of different spirits, alcopops, beers and syrups. Beer kegs sat beneath them, the stone floor scratched and stained with years of use. Traces of malt and barley hung heavily in the air. 

Shauna folded her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid this will have to be quick, detectives,” she said, confidently. “It’s one of our busiest times.”

“We won't keep you long,” said Connor. “We just want to know a little more about Jennifer Jones and her husband. We understand Alexander Jones was the manager here. How was he to work for?”

Shauna raised her chin, shrugging one shoulder. “Sandy was...,” she started, then seemed to rethink. “Well, he used to be nice enough with the others, when JJ was still alive. He lived for her. She seemed to keep him in check.”

The way the woman sucked on her bottom lip told Connor she had a lot more to say. 

“Keep him in check?” the detective prodded, obviously reading her right as well.

Shauna gave an unsure hum. “I don’t think he liked me very much. Which was a pity because he seemed so nice with other people. He just seemed to prefer…” she waved a hand over Gavin.

Gavin shook his head and Connor was just as confused. 

“Sorry, just, well maybe he was… he could be a bit of a sexist,” Shauna said at last, with a sad sigh. “A tiny bit funny with people of colour too? I dunno. Just in the short time he was allowed to hire people, he picked a lot of white guys. Hardly any of them had experience but he didn't seem to care. It was as if...”

“Go on,” encouraged Connor.

“Listen, I don’t mean to blow my own trumpet, but I’m great at my job. I’ve never had a sick day, I pick up extra shifts, JJ really appreciated me, but Sandy was… always off with me. Maybe it was just me, I can come off as annoyingly cheery sometimes, but I just always got a sneaking suspicion that it might have been more than simply a clash of personalities.”

Gavin glanced at him, and Connor gave a slight nod. She was telling the truth.

“How was he as a manager?” asked Gavin.

Shauna hissed uneasily through her teeth. “If I have to be honest, he was never really very good at the money or the inventory or even the schedule,” she explained. “But he loved meeting the kids. He’d sometimes stand at the door and greet them. Super friendly with everyone who… ‘met his standards’.”

“Did he ever threaten you, or your job?” said Gavin, with a slight twitch in his eyebrows.

“Gosh, no,” Shauna said, shaking her head. “He just ignored me really. Until JJ died, anyway. She was brilliant. Like, genuinely nice, you know? I have no idea how she ended up with someone like him. She was sweet, really clever. She ran this place like it was second nature to her.”

She wandered over to a small fridge. “Can I get you some water? Or maybe thirium? We have some of the normal stuff around here somewhere.”

Connor looked at her in surprise.

“Sorry. I recognised you from the news,” smiled Shauna, bashfully. “My boyfriend is an android too. A PL600. David. He’s a really lovely person. Deviated long before the revolution. It was a scary time for us. I remember seeing you lead the androids from Cyberlife. That image… it’s kind of burned into my brain. I remember every single one of you. You have no idea how much those days meant to us.”

Oh. He slid the beanie off his head and tucked it into his jacket pocket, running a hand through his hair. No point in hiding his LED in here.

It was strange. He’d been recognised by androids before, but only ever a handful of humans. He’d left the limelight as quickly as he could. There had been enough attention on him when he'd started working with Hank and the DPD, and it wasn't exactly positive. 

Luckily, even those people who had been watching the news intently only eyed him with vague familiarity and seemed to quickly dismiss him when they saw his LED, assuming him to be one of many with the same face.

It took an incredibly observant person to pick him out of a crowd. It gave her words more meaning in his mind.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said honestly. 

Shauna waved him off, giddily. “Sorry. I’m gushing. You know what it’s like. I can’t imagine it has been easy for you two either. How long have you been together?”

Connor could have sworn his thirium pump malfunctioned, heat filling his face. He glanced at Gavin, who looked just as taken aback.

“We’re… partners,” Connor said, the words sticking in his throat. Gavin coughed, looking away.

“Ah,” Shauna said, her lips twitching upwards. “I get it. Sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain. Don’t worry, there’s no judgement here. It’s hard to be out and proud when there’s so much hate in the world.”

“Whoa, I’m out and proud,” retorted Gavin, raising his chin stubbornly.

Suddenly Connor found himself in a room with two humans whose mouths worked faster than their brains.

The bartender looked between them. “I’m sure you are, detective, and I swear, I don’t mean to undermine you, or offend either of you, I really don’t, but…” Her expression turned sorrowful. “I lost my family because they wouldn’t accept that I loved David. Even the people in here… I know the things they say behind my back. It’s heart-breaking how quickly the people you call friends can turn their backs on you.”

Connor bit his tongue, feeling an odd ache in his chest as he watched Gavin out of the corner of his eye. The man’s attention flickered to him, a deep frown set on his face.

Had he finally realised what this was? What this might do to his reputation if anyone found out?

 _//Negative reaction recorded_

Shit, this wasn’t the time.

“How was Sandy after Jennifer’s death?” he asked, swiftly changing the subject.

Shauna opened her bottle of water and took a drink. “Awful. Really awful. He barely took any time off and tried to run the place himself.”

“And how did that go?” Gavin turned back to her, his voice a little thick.

“He ran the place into the ground,” sighed Shauna with a little shrug. “I thought the club was going to shut. He couldn’t figure out the schedule. We were constantly understaffed, never had enough stock. I volunteered to take over for a while, work extra, do the ordering, just until he cleared his head, had time to grieve, but he wasn’t interested in my help.”

“Sounds like a piece of work,” Gavin said, clearly trying to delve deeper.

“No. No, he was hurting,” said Shauna, softly. “JJ was a total burst of energy. She loved everyone and everything. She balanced Sandy out completely, but after she died, he went to a dark place. Or maybe his darkness was just finally visible. That was when he started to hate androids too. Maybe he always did…. Thankfully it was before I met David. Some of the rhetoric he came away with was really scary.”

“He had a problem with androids?” questioned Connor.

“I know that for certain,” she nodded swiftly. “It was... unsettling. It was just after JJ's death. He started bringing in these leaflets for anti-android groups. Proper _hate_ groups. I wasn’t sure why at first, but then I heard that an android was on the scene when JJ died and he didn’t save her. It was a…” she pressed her lips together.

“A PL600,” finished Connor, looking at Gavin. It was like Hank had said, the android on the scene didn’t save the adults, he went straight for Sam.

“He blamed the android for JJ’s death, which is absurd,” she shook her head, placing the bottle of water on a shelf to her side. “He saved the one most likely to survive. JJ wouldn’t have just understood, she would have been grateful. I don’t think she could have handled surviving if it meant it was at the expense of her nephew’s life.”

So Sandy was a possible sexist, racist and certainly had a motive for hating androids but…

“What about their son?” Connor asked carefully. “Dillon?”

Shauna’s face fell. “I don’t know where to start…” 

“Just be as honest as possible, Shauna,” said Gavin, nodding at her.

“Well, he is his father’s double,” she said quickly. “There isn’t an ounce of JJ in him. He’s been in here a few times, and he can’t help but cause trouble. He has a sweet face but all he does is chat up the staff or he… tries to find someone too drunk to know what they are doing. Men or women, he doesn’t care. He’s really sleezy about it. I don’t even think he’s after sex. I just think… he kind of likes the control? I don’t know.”

“Control?” Connor was beginning to get more concerned about the man they were after.

“I can’t describe it,” shrugged Shauna. “Maybe possessive? It’s like he never really grew up. Or maybe JJ’s death hit him hard and he never really recovered. But he… I’m sorry, detectives, but Dillon is an awful human being. It sounds harsh but…”

“You’re being honest,” said Connor, nodding supportively. “Like Detective Reed said, that’s what we’re looking for.”

Shauna shook her head. “I wish I had something nicer to say about him. I really liked JJ. She was a good boss. Paid us fair wages, was always considerate if we needed time off, understood if we had difficulties and wouldn’t let anybody mess with her staff. She was great, but her family is everything she wasn’t.”

“Has Dillon ever tried anything with you?” Gavin asked.

“Gosh, no,” Shauna laughed wryly. “‘Too dark’ for his tastes. His words. Not mine.”

She picked up her water again and nodded towards the door. “I’m sorry to rush you, detectives, but I really should get back. Is there anything else you need to know?”

“Just one more thing. Have you seen Dillon tonight?” asked Connor.

Shauna shook her head. “No, but on the nights he does show up, it’s like clockwork. Midnight on the dot.” She checked her watch. “If you’re expecting him, he’ll be here very soon. I guarantee he'll start by chatting up Kim. She’s the tiny blonde serving drinks at the bar on the other side of the dancefloor.”

Gavin nodded. “Thanks Shauna. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Don’t sweat it, really,” shrugged Shauna, turning to leave. She paused at the door, looking unsure. “I know you’re both trained, but be careful. It’s just, I’ve seen him around androids too. It’s… not right.” 

Well, that was ominous. 

She didn’t say any more as she opened the door, the heavy music spilling into the room. 

They left, letting Shauna lock the door behind her before returning to her duties. 

Connor quickly slid his beanie back on, turning to look at Gavin. The man was running a worried hand through his hair.

“Gavin-”

“He could be a racist,” growled Gavin loudly, starting to pace in short steps in front of him. The patrons close by suddenly gave them a wide berth. “They could both be racists and they’re looking after Sam? That kid isn’t exactly white.”

“I know.” The same fear was running through him too. 

_**//Samuel Garcia Priority Level: High**_

“Gavin, we’ll protect him,” he said, taking the detective by the shoulders.

Gavin glared at him. “I fucking know that!” he snapped.

_//Negative reaction recorded_

One of them needed to calm down. One of them needed to be sensible. One of them-

A hand gripped onto his forearm, and the detective took a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

“Sorry, Con. I didn’t mean that. Fuck, I’m just… We need to get Dillon. One thing at a fucking time.” Gavin opened his eyes, looking right at him, as if reading his thoughts. “I get it. We need to be careful. Sam’s our priority, right?”

The worry left him instantly, and what replaced it was pure determination. 

“Of course,” he said, pulling Gavin towards him. He needed his closeness and when Gavin’s arm wrapped around him, closing a fist into his jacket, he knew the detective needed this too. “Our priority.”

Gavin’s face settled against his neck. “I wouldn’t give a shit, you know…” he muttered, barely audible above the loud music.

Connor pulled away, looking at him. 

“Me and you. If anyone knew about whatever the fuck this is,” he said, looking at Connor. “I don’t-”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Connor said, swallowing needlessly.

“Connor,” Gavin gave a strained laugh, resting his head on Connor’s shoulder. “You’re fucking impossible.”

They definitely needed to talk, but now was not the time. 

“I think we should get you another drink," he said softly, tucking a hand under the man’s chin and pulling his face up.

Gavin scoffed, clearing his throat. “Not really in the mood right now, Con.”

“We’re going to need an excuse to sit at the other bar somehow, detective. I’m buying,” smiled Connor, trying to make the situation a little lighter. 

Groaning, Gavin shoved him softly, before fidgeting in his sling. “Fine,” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “I’m not rude enough to pass up free alcohol.”

“Maybe a dance?” chanced Connor. “We have time.”

“Don’t promise me a dance if you don’t mean it,” Gavin snickered, taking a deep breath and standing up straight. 

“I’d never let you down like that.” Connor pinched the detective’s elbow, then reached to adjust his sling.

There was so much to do and it was just unfortunate they couldn’t do much of anything right now. They had to wait until Dillon showed his face. 

Until then, they were stuck here. 

But Connor was not going to let Gavin wallow in the maybes or what-ifs. 

They would protect Sam, and they would get Dillon. There was no doubt about that in Connor’s mind. 

Prioritise. Compartmentalise.

“I know what you’re doing.” Gavin was staring at him, the corners of his lips upturned. “You might think you're fucking clever, but you know what?”

“What-”

He couldn’t finish. Gavin’s hand grabbed the back of his neck and he leaned up, kissing him hard. 

A slight gasp left Connor as a strangely pleasant mixture of whisky and Gavin’s DNA filled his mouth.

Pulling away, Gavin’s stormy eyes peered at him. “You’re a fucking horrible distraction, and I hate you.” 

_//False_

Connor smiled. “Neither of those things are true. Does lying make you a t-”

“Yes, they are, and no, it fucking doesn’t,” Gavin tutted, taking Connor's hand and turning around, dragging him towards the dance floor. “Ten minutes to midnight and you promised me a dance. Can’t believe this asshole has us on his fucking schedule.”

*

Gavin was restless. A million thoughts raced through his mind when he should be focused.

The possibility of Sam’s uncle and cousin being racist pricks. The weird as shit thing Shauna had said about Dillon and androids. 

And then, there was Connor’s flashing red LED when Shauna was talking about the shit she got for being with her android boyfriend. 

That sideways look he gave Gavin. It was sad. Disappointed. Worried. Filled with self-doubt.

Connor had no business being any of those things.

Did he really think he would give a flying fuck about what anybody said about him? Like Gavin had a fucking fan club waiting for him back at the precinct? 

Yeah, no doubt he could count on one hand the people who had even noticed that he hadn’t been there for the last week. 

The place was probably a hell of a lot quieter without him.

But none of that mattered, because he was still here. Ten minutes alone with the android and he’d already promised himself he wouldn’t waste a fucking second of the time he had left with him. 

Moving through the thick of the crowd, they were getting nearer the bar at the back. He wanted that dance, but they would still keep an eye out for Dillon. He wasn’t _that_ irresponsible. 

Then, out of the blue, he felt Connor being tugged backwards, his hand slipping away.

“Con?” He tried to turn around but he was awkwardly pulled forward by his sling.

“Hi,” said a bright, chirpy voice. “I’m Aaron.”

For fuck sake. 

He was suddenly confronted by a young guy, eyes heavy with black liner, his spiked blond hair slick with too much gel. 

The guy gripped Gavin’s bicep so hard that his jacket barely acted as a barrier. He instinctively flinched away. 

Aaron either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he slid a thin finger into Gavin’s sling, running up and down the inside of it. “I like a guy with strong arms,” his voice pierced through the music. “What happened to you?”

“Gunshot wound,” Gavin said flatly, glancing around. Where the fuck was Connor?

“Oo, dangerous,” the younger man licked his lips, his hands going to Gavin’s sides and sliding presumptuously under his jacket, getting into his space. “Are you a _bad boy_?”

Seriously? What the fuck kind of response was the kid looking for?

Alcohol really made these places seem better.

He was ready to tell Aaron where he could stick his fucking awful chat up lines, but suddenly another arm wrapped around his shoulder and Gavin was about to lose his absolute shit until he looked around to see Connor pointing directly at him while looking at a frowning woman. 

“Him, Coleen,” he called loudly, holding Gavin close. 

The woman pursed her lips sullenly, but shrugged, slinking back to dance with her friends.

Connor shook his head, turning his attention back to Gavin. “Sorry-”

Then the android’s eyes shot to the hands on Gavin's waist and Gavin was frozen to the spot as Connor's expression turned dark, his flashing red LED barely visible through the material of his beanie.

If there was any lingering part of Gavin that was worried about his own jealously, it was immediately extinguished when Connor simply looked the younger man dead in the eye, gently but physically pulling Gavin away from him. 

“Mine,” Connor said bluntly, frowning. 

That was it. 

That small bit of childish, confused outrage from the android who was usually so composed, so articulate and so fucking steady.

Gavin was fucking floored. He burst into a fit of laughter before he could even try to stop it.

The kid held his hands in the air, turning and traipsing away, and Gavin closed his eyes, relaxing in Connor’s protective embrace until he could finally control himself.

Turning around, which was an effort in Connor’s grasp, he gave the android the most disbelieving look he could. 

“’Mine’?” he questioned, above the booming music. “Best you could do? Most expensive android on the planet, top fucking negotiator…” He laughed again, tears building up in his eyes.

Connor scrunched up his face, looking embarrassed and annoyed at himself, and it was fucking precious. 

“That was not my finest moment, but you didn't give me anything to go on!” he argued weakly, dropping his arms to his sides, seeming unsure of what to do with them. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I didn't mean to sound so-”

“Shut the fuck up, you idiot,” said Gavin, still barely containing his laughter. He kissed the stupid android, and it was sloppy and messy because he couldn’t stop the hysterics, but fuck it. It was the most wanted he’d ever felt. 

When he pulled away, it didn't matter how dark it was, Gavin could see the blue in the android's face. “All yours, dipshit,” he grinned devilishly. 

Connor stared, wide-eyed, for maybe a full second. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

“Not much to understand,” Gavin said, still smiling ear to ear, planting even more kisses over the idiot’s face, just to be annoying.

“Get off me,” Connor chuckled, but happily gathered Gavin in his arms.

Gavin pulled back. “Still up for that dance?” 

But even as he spoke, he saw Connor’s eyes flicker somewhere beyond him and he faltered. “Gavin.”

Fuck. He hated when Connor said his name like that.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw who had stolen Connor's attention.

Dillon. 

The interrupting fuckwit was standing at the edge of the dancefloor, sliding something into the hand of the same blond guy who had been trying it on with Gavin just seconds ago.

What was it about him that attracted the fucking users?

“I hate this case,” he groaned. “You owe me a dance.”

“Duty calls,” winked Connor. “But we did just catch him _red_ handed...” He needlessly cleared his throat. "Sorry, that was inappropriate."

“Oh, for fuck...,” Gavin tried not to laugh at the terrible joke but he was still so lightheaded, he couldn’t help it.

How did this stupidly hot nerd make him feel so fucking happy?

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor: Mine  
> Gavin: His  
> Connor: Should we talk about this?  
> Gavin: Nope  
> Connor: My thoughts exactly
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> They are so infuriating.
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> There may be a bit of upcoming angst, but let's be fair. The angst will be like a single cloud floating through the sky on a sunny day. 
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> Your kudos, comments and time makes me warm and soft. Thank you ❤
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> I'm looking forward to the next part...
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's been less than a fucking minute,” Gavin snorted. “If you need a distraction, it’s my turn for a question, and it’s a good one.”
> 
> Perfect. At least this would give him something to focus on. “Okay.”
> 
> “Us,” Gavin said, taking a deep breath. 
> 
> Connor faltered.
> 
> Now? He wanted to have this conversation now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The guys investigate the club and Gavin uses the question game to his advantage... 
> 
>  
> 
> I wrote a chapter so long it was hurting my head editing it, so I've broken it down into more manageable chapters! 
> 
> A slightly shorter one here, but at least the next two are written and only need heavily edited.

Chapter 16

“Gavin, why are you complaining?” asked Connor loudly, over the music. “You kissed me, agreed with me, and even now you can’t stop smiling. It doesn’t seem like you really minded that much.”

“Nope, I absolutely minded.” Gavin put a finger in the neck of his beer, threatening to knock it over. “I mean, ‘mine’? I feel so fucking owned right now. You should be ashamed.” He kicked Connor’s calf under the table, grinning. “Say it again.”

Oh. He wasn’t actually complaining.

Connor rolled his eyes. The detective must be getting tired. He was being more of a pain than usual, although maybe he was right. Maybe Connor should be ashamed. 

If wanting to carry Gavin out of this place, pack him into the car and drive them someplace where there weren’t a hundred eager hands ready to grope him was something to be ashamed of...

“Fine, if you're not going to indulge me, you’ll have to watch me die of fucking boredom,” grumbled Gavin, stifling a yawn, tugging his finger out of his beer and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. 

“Not if I willingly deactivate myself first…” muttered Connor, wearily.

He had been on several stakeouts with Hank and none of them were ever this dull. The loud, monotonous thumping the DJ called ‘music’, and the giggling drunk patrons (one of which had tried to sit on Connor's lap and was met with a literal growl from Gavin that Connor was not allowed to speak of ever again) made watching Dillon float about like he owned the place mind-numbingly boring.

Desk duty was starting to seem preferable.

Gavin rested his temple heavily against Connor’s shoulder, looking out over the bar. “Is this creep going to chat up every single bartender?”

“It looks like Shauna was right,” sighed Connor, knocking his foot into Gavin’s. “I’ve never used the word ‘sleazy’ to describe someone before, but it certainly fits here.”

Dressed in blue jeans and a grey shirt that was opened almost down to his naval, Dillon wore a heavy silver chain with a cross that hung at the centre of his chest. His thick rimmed glasses were fashionable, but only highlighted his sharp features and fluffy hair so blond it was almost white.

Whenever he ordered a drink, he always made sure to grab the glass quickly enough to touch the hand of the bartender putting it down in front of him, lingering inappropriately long. 

There were others attempting to flirt with the bartenders, but none of them had been quite as… disturbing about it.

Dillon _had_ sold a number of small bags of red ice, all of which Connor had saved to the DPD database, but as incriminating as it was, it wasn’t enough. They knew he had more. He must have been keeping his stash somewhere, and it certainly wasn’t on his person.

“Maybe he only arrived with a small amount,” said Connor. "We could be wasting our time." 

“No,” Gavin said firmly. “You found thousands of dollars’ worth of drugs in his room, there’s no way he only planned on making a few hundred bucks tonight. Look at what he’s wearing. Even if he’s filled his fucking shoes, he’s handed out way more than he could have been carrying already.”

“Then where is he keeping it?” Connor shook his head.

“I dread to fucking think…,” muttered Gavin, before perking up. “Wait, there he goes again.”

Dillon let out an exaggerated laugh with someone he’d just dealt more than a few small bags to, then turned around, heading towards the bathrooms. 

“That’s the third time in an hour,” frowned Connor.

“Either this guy has the world’s smallest bladder,” suggested Gavin, “or he’s stashed the drugs somewhere in there.”

“The other detectives?” He’d been keeping an eye out but hadn’t seen them. 

“They’ve picked him up before. They wouldn’t come in themselves. If they’ve sent in another team, I don’t recognise them…”

Connor fidgeted. “We shouldn’t just sit here when the evidence could be so close.” He shifted to the edge of the booth and stood. “Stay here. I’ll follow him.”

“I don’t fucking think so." Gavin quickly grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him back down next to him. “Settle down, barbie. We’ve watched him sell. He’s caught this time, with or without his stash. Was I alone when Shauna said that weird fucking thing about him and androids?”

“Gavin, I’m just going to take a look-" 

“ _Connor_ , I just don’t give a shit,” he retorted, mockingly. “We’re not armed and we’re not splitting up. We stay together. That’s the rule.”

"Oh, _now_ it's the rule..."

"Pretty sure it was your fucking rule!" Gavin held his gaze determinedly. 

Why was he so drawn to someone this stupidly stubborn?

Stubborn and… right. 

Connor huffed, his mind searching for another scenario. A better one.

Hm.

“Fine, then how about we both go,” he suggested, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Both of us? That’ll look a bit fucking strange- oh, wait... you mean…” Gavin shook his head and snickered, rubbing a hand down his face. “Smooth fucking android. Right, let’s go.”

Connor quickly took his hand and slid out of the booth again, tugging Gavin with him. 

They were definitely toeing the line between taking the case seriously and enjoying themselves a bit too much. Connor knew this even as he pulled the detective into the short corridor. 

Some doors were clearly marked as bathrooms, others unmarked, likely more storerooms. A few people meandered back and forth, in various stages of drunkenness. 

Pushing Gavin into the wall, he whispered, “Keep an eye out. When he leaves, we’ll go in and investigate.”

He dipped his head to leave a trail of wet kisses over Gavin’s neck. His sensors picked up every trace of him, _tasting_ him. Finally, the hour was taking a turn for the better. 

“Did you just tell me how to do my job, barbie?” chuckled Gavin, gripping Connor’s waist with one hand, the other trapped in the sling between them, tilting his head back. “Been doing this longer than you’ve been walking the planet.”

Running his tongue over Gavin’s skin, the man moaned, pushing his hips against him. Connor smiled. “Focus, old man.”

“Fuck you,” Gavin said spiritedly, his voice strained. “I'm only thirty-six years older than you. Can't believe they don't ID androids.”

"Apparently a badge is enough of an ID," grinned Connor, wrapping his arms around him. "Now, stop talking."

He bit at the detective’s neck, pressing him into the wall until he heard a door open behind him and felt Gavin’s hand tighten protectively. Someone walked past them, and a heavy waft of aftershave invaded Connor's sensors. 

Curiosity got the better of him.

His attention flickered upwards just as Dillon glanced over his shoulder and those beady eyes enlarged by his spectacles locked on Connor. The man gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, before strutting away.

Shit.

“We seem to have captured his interest,” said Connor quietly, leaving Gavin's neck. 

“Luckily he has no fucking clue who we are,” whispered Gavin against his ear. “Besides, he was probably saving that image to use later tonight, if you know what I mean.” He nipped Connor’s earlobe. 

“I don’t...” Oh. Connor grimaced, leaning away. “That’s disgusting, Gavin.”

Gavin grinned wickedly. “Like you haven’t been saving of all of our _fun times_ in that big computer head of yours.”

Well...

“I fucking knew it!” the detective exclaimed, eyeing his guilty face correctly. He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Dirty little deviant.”

A small group of people made their way through the corridor, loudly bickering with each other.

“That’s simply how I store memories,” muttered Connor quickly, giving him an impatient shove towards the bathrooms. He wouldn’t admit to the needless backup memories that were swimming with Gavin’s face. “Let’s go and find the drugs. You need to sleep at some point tonight.” 

“Wrong way, barbie. He didn’t come out of the bathrooms.” Gavin looked at him smugly.

“Then where?”

The man nodded his head towards one of the unmarked doors. “You’re not _that_ distracting.”

“I’m hurt…” Connor rolled his eyes, smiling in spite of himself. 

*

This wasn’t what Connor expected.

“Are we still in the club,” frowned Gavin, looking around in disbelief, “or have we somehow gone back in time?”

The room was certainly old-fashioned, a stark contrast to the trendy nightclub outside. Filled with dark wooden accents, war paintings and several examples of taxidermy, a flush purple carpet covered the floor and there was a long window high on the wall at the far end, slightly ajar, letting in the night air. A heavy oak desk sat in the centre, a large thin screen on top of it and a black leather chair behind it.

It almost reminded Connor of Liz Miller’s home. Cold and false. “Shouldn’t this room be locked?”

“His family owned this place once,” shrugged Gavin as he glanced around the large space. “Maybe he has a key.”

Connor eyed the large deer's head displayed on the wall above a chest of drawers. “I don’t like it…”

“Yeah, it's giving me the fucking creeps too," said Gavin, disdainfully. He shook his arm out of his sling, stretching it with a deep groan that shot straight to Connor’s memory banks. “Come on. The faster we find the drugs, the faster we escape the office of nightmares. He must have hidden them somewhere in here. Are your superpowers picking anything up?”

Connor shook his head. “Nothing obvious.”

Gavin began opening up the drawers under the dead animal's head, raking about, as Connor eyed the ceiling. There weren’t any panels that could be opened.

Solid walls, one closet, no hidden spaces. There was nothing here. Dillon wasn’t smart. Even without the rest of the drugs, he had been caught for the third time dealing in the exact same location.

“If he walked in through the front without anything on him, that means the drugs _had_ to have been here already. If they are in this room, why haven’t they been discovered before?” Connor was growing frustrated. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“Cool it, Con.” He could feel Gavin’s watchful eyes on him. “I told you before, this shit takes time. Maybe he has a really good hiding place.”

“Where?” he stressed, looking around the room. “If the drugs were here, we would have found them by now...”

"It's been less than a fucking minute,” Gavin snorted. “If you need a distraction, it’s my turn for a question, and it’s a good one.”

Perfect. At least this would give him something to focus on. “Okay.”

“Us,” Gavin said, taking a deep breath. 

Connor faltered.

Now? He wanted to have this conversation now?

“That’s not a question." Connor shifted aside a stuffed fox carcass to open up the closet door. Shelves full of old, black ledgers. 

“You know what I mean,” Gavin said, without looking up, busying himself searching through the desk drawers. “When this is over, do we just go back to ignoring each other? Pretend none of this ever happened?”

_//Gavin Reed: L-_

_//Additional data required/?/_

“No. I… We…,” he tried, his mind a confusing tirade of screaming prompts. Frustrated, he dismissed them all. “W-we shouldn’t be talking about this right now. It's not important.”

They were in the middle of a case. That’s where their focus should be. 

Gavin was suddenly silent, but Connor was too consumed with... with...

“Forget it,” shrugged Gavin, slamming a desk drawer shut. “You're right, it's not important.”

Not important...

Wait. Shit, that wasn't what he meant.

_//Negative reaction recorded**_

_//Additional data/?/_

“Gavin…” he started. “Don’t-"

“It’s fine,” he snapped, running a tired hand through his hair. “Like you said, doesn’t matter.”

Oh, he really was a stupid and stubborn human. 

Of course it mattered. 

“No,” he tried again, this time, honestly. “This matters. I want-”

Connor's attention shot to the door.

The sound of whistling was drawing nearer, so different from the booming music that Connor could easily pick it up.

What terrible _fucking_ timing.

In a flash, he grabbed the back of Gavin’s jacket and all but threw the man into the closet, closing the door behind them.

“What the fuck are you doing?” hissed Gavin, trying to move with nowhere to go.

“Dillon’s coming back,” Connor explained hurriedly, holding the man’s shoulders to stop him from being even more of a frustrating idiot than he already was. “Stay still and be quiet.”

“Oh, fucking great,” he muttered angrily, gripping Connor’s hips that were flattened against him in the cramped space. “No, no, no. Barbie, if this is gonna work, you need to stop fucking moving right now.”

Was Gavin getting…

How was that possible? 

Connor rolled his eyes. “If you could show a basic level of self-control, detective, that would make this easier.”

“Well, I’m fucking sorry,” drawled Gavin. “I didn’t expect to be crowded in a fucking closet with you! My body doesn't know this is a fuckin’ case!”

“Well your brain does! So keep your voice down!”

“Then stop fucking moving!” glared Gavin exasperatedly, wrapped his arms around Connor’s waist. 

Placing his hands on the shelves at either side of the detective’s head, Connor looked down at him dangerously. “I’m. Not. Moving.”

“Fuck, I forgot how annoying you are!” growled Gavin. “You know what? I can’t fucking wait to get back to the precinct. Back to peace and quiet.”

“You are the worst liar-!”

Footsteps came from outside, and Connor pressed his lips together firmly while Gavin stared at him with a heated rage.

Silence was forced over them as someone entered the room. Loud music spilled through the open door, but it was quickly closed, and the din quietened again. 

The cheerful whistling was soon joined by the sound of a chair being dragging across the carpeted floor. 

Connor tilted awkwardly backwards and peaked through one of the slats in the closet door to see the skinny man hovering near the window, engrossed in his phone.

He signalled to Gavin, who let out a puff of air, and his annoyance reluctantly faded.

They were stuck waiting once more, which would have been a lot easier had they not been squashed together in a comically tiny closet in the middle of… could this even be called an argument?

All he could do now was concentrate on the slightly shaky breathing of the detective, simply to distract himself from his thoughts and from the heat of the man pressed against him. 

After a few minutes of complete silence from outside the closet, and uncomfortable silence within, those fiery grey eyes flickered to his face.

_//Increase contact**_

Not now...

_//Increase-_

It shouldn't be this difficult to focus, but Gavin's cautious arms slid slowly from his hips, over his shoulders and around his neck, and Connor couldn't resist.

His hands dropped from the shelves and slipped around Gavin's back, moving them smoothly under his jacket and shirt, feeling an intense relief at the man’s warm skin under his touch.

A strange huff left the detective as he pressed his forehead against Connor's cheek. When he looked up again, his pupils were dilated.

They shouldn't be doing this, they were risking too much already, but Gavin's mouth was right there, so close...

Their lips were barely touching, but it was enough to send his mind into overdrive. He only wanted these lips on his, this impossible human touching him.

He didn't want to go back to the way they were before. He didn’t want to lose what they’d just discovered.

Connor took Gavin's bottom lip between his own, before kissing him lightly, his tongue pushing for access. Gavin gave it and suddenly, they were pressing into each other, careful not to make a sound.

He felt Gavin's heartrate increase as he leaned into him, warm lips moving softly on Connor's, the man's hands drifting gently from his neck to his cheeks. Connor held him as close as he could, caressing the sweet bare skin under Gavin’s shirt…

There was no describing the rush of emotions he felt by those simple movements, even with all the knowledge he carried. He wanted to envelop the man in his arms, keep him safe, make sure he felt all of the warmth he made Connor feel-

A cough from outside of the closet made them break apart, and their eyes locked with each other. A small, mystified expression came over detective's face and, almost hesitantly, his thumb carefully slipped under Connor's beanie, stroking his LED. Connor couldn't help but lean into the touch. 

Whatever it was that he felt towards the man in front of him went well beyond simply caring for him, beyond them being physical with each other. The fondness was ready to overwhelm him.

It had only been a few days but...

_//Gavin Reed: L-_

_//Additional data-_

_Tap. Tap._

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

“Where the hell have you been?” Dillon's sneer echoed in the room outside. “I’ve told you a million times, I don’t like waiting.” 

Gavin frowned at him, letting his hands drop to Connor's shoulders. Whatever they’d just shared was forgotten, surpassed by confusion. Connor shook his head. He tried to look through the small gap, but he couldn’t see anybody else. 

The room was empty. Who was Dillon talking to?

A bag unzipped and Connor heard the faint rustling of plastic. 

“Don't go far. The little angels want to play tonight,” Dillon giggled, the gleeful tone a little unsettling considering he was selling an addictive, life-destroying substance. 

There was a creak and then a click and Connor's eyes snapped to Gavin's, realisation hitting them both.

The window.

The drugs were never in the room. 

There was someone outside helping him.

Another scrape of the chair across the carpet, and Dillon starting whistling again as his footsteps headed towards the door.

It slammed on his way out.

“What the fuck?” breathed Gavin. “Who else is out there?”

Connor peered back through the slat in the door to the high window at the end. “There is nobody there now.”’

“Then why are we still in here?” asked Gavin, raising an eyebrow.

_Honesty._

“Us…” he started awkwardly.

"Really, Con?" Gavin said, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. "You want to talk about this in a literal closet? Get your head out of the clouds, we’re in the middle of a fucking case."

Connor blinked.

...Was he joking?

"Oh, is this a little inappropriate?” He stared at Gavin in disbelief. “You were the one who asked the question!"

“Yeah, yeah. I'm a snarky little bitch when I'm tired. You've worked with me for six months, you haven’t noticed? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Gavin grinned, shoving him backwards through the door. “Pause the game?”

_//Begin precon-STOP**_

No. Not worth it.

“You're the worst human I've ever met.”

“Now who’s the liar?” Gavin winked at him as he wandered around the desk and pulled the chair towards the window. “After you.”

Connor was fully ready to strangle the man, but unfortunately, they had a job to do. It would have to wait. 

He stepped up onto the chair, the leather squeaking under his shoes. He carefully glanced outside, trying to find the culprit. 

The sight made his thirium turn cold.

“Shit, Gavin.”

“What? Con, what is it?”

All Connor could see out of the corner of the window, almost hidden behind a large dumpster, was a small head of dark blond curls, pale brown skin, a sleeve-covered hand rubbing over his nose.

_**//Samuel Garcia Priority Level: High** _

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: No splitting up, that’s the rule  
> Connor: So now it’s a rule?  
> Gavin: It was your rule!  
> Connor: It was your rule…
> 
> Gavin: Let's talk about us.  
> Connor: *breaks*  
> Gavin: lol jk  
> Connor: //Destroy him**
> 
>  
> 
> Much love to you all.
> 
> ❤ j.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the blink of an eye, Connor had smoothly stepped in and taken hold of the detective, heaving him against the wall next to the bathrooms like he wasn’t twice his size. “Detective Simmons, choose your next move very carefully,” he said darkly. "It may not end well for you."
> 
> Growling, Simmons shrugged him away. "Whatever. Not worth my time anyway. But you're still not going anywhere. You'll both be coming with me."
> 
> A few drunken people stumbled past, and all three of them fell into feigned relaxation.
> 
> “Shit. We _really_ don’t have time for this.” Connor stayed in between them, placing a hand on Simmons’ chest. “Gavin, go.”
> 
> Go?
> 
> Fuck, no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is an absolute bitch when he's tired. He's even worse when he's worried. That's a fact.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings for a scared kid and unwanted creepiness**

Chapter 17

He jumped down from the chair, and shoved it back in frustration. It hit the old oak desk with a loud thud. “That cowardly fucking bastard!” 

“Gavin, control your temper!”

"That's why there has never been enough red ice on him," he said, clenching and unclenching his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. "He's using Sam as a portable fucking stash!"

“I'm seeing what you're seeing,” Connor hissed, grabbing his shoulders, holding him still. “But we need to keep it together. Otherwise we won't be able to help him, and that is _not_ an option. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, I fucking hear you, dipshit! I…” Gavin looked straight at Connor, ready to unleash a stream of rage but, even under the beanie, he could see the faint glow of the android’s LED. It was spinning in a flurry of yellow and red. Shit. 

What the fuck was he doing?

Gavin groaned. He dug the heels of his palms into eyes and took a deep breath. Connor was just as angry as he was. Why was it so difficult for him to remember the android was right by his side? 

He wasn't fucking _alone._

They needed to get out of this dark, musty room. The walls felt closer than they possibly could be, and the shiny black eyes of the dead animals were watching them from their various posts.

“I hear you,” he said again, letting Connor's touch drain the tension from him. “Sorry, I just...”

“Don’t be sorry,” breathed Connor, resting his forehead against Gavin’s. “I get it. I feel the same way. Sam is outside, alone, in the middle of the night, and we need to keep him safe. He’s our priority.”

“He is,” Gavin sighed, a strong determination filling him. He leaned up and stole a kiss from the android. He didn't understand the calming effect Connor had on him, but fuck, he appreciated it right now. “You’re right. We'll get the kid out of this fucking mess. The prick detectives can deal with the creep.”

“That’s the attitude I like to see,” smirked Connor, ruffling his hair. That small motion broke the remaining tension within him. 

“Fuck off.” Gavin shoved the android away with a roll of his eyes before fixing his sling back over his arm. “Ready?”

"Let's go." Without a second's hesitation, Connor grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the door.

But they were barely outside of the room, loud music once again assaulting his eardrums, when Connor was pushed aside. 

Gavin didn't have time to be surprised.

Tanned, calloused hands snatched him from the doorway, and forced him heavily against the wall, an arm at his already bruised throat.

_How many fucking times…_

Gavin slammed his palm hard into the guy’s shoulder, knocking whoever it was back out of his space. He was getting pretty sick of being thrown around like a fucking ragdoll. 

“Who the fuck do you think…” he started, before he recognised the face staring back at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What, didn't expect to see me? I’m the one who's supposed to be here! But imagine our surprise when we were monitoring the cameras and saw you two idiots on the screen,” raged Simmons, furious, but still somehow reserved. He obviously didn't want to catch the attention of the club-goers. He rounded on Gavin again, sharp blue eyes glaring at him from under a dark baseball cap. “You lovebirds enjoying your date night? Did you forget that this is a fucking case? _Our_ fucking case? You shouldn’t be here!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Connor said tiredly, clearly not seeing the man as much of a threat. “We are only here to observe, Detective Simmons.” 

“Connor’s being polite,” Gavin interjected childishly, stepping forward and getting in Simmons’ face. “We’re here to make sure you assholes don’t fuck this up. But don't worry, we're leaving now."

Simmons sneered. "If you think you’re going anywhere-"

“Yeah? What you gonna do-!” Gavin started, shoving Simmons again. The prick grabbed him by the shirt, pulling back a clenched fist.

What a fucking idiot. As much Gavin was in the mood to knock the guy flat, that wasn't going to happen for three reasons. One, this was a case and he knew better than to start a brawl when they needed to get outside. Two, Fowler's _last chance_ warning still rang loudly in his ears, and three, well... 

Simmons had obviously learned nothing from Boyd's attempt to hit him this afternoon. 

In the blink of an eye, Connor smoothly stepped in and took hold of the detective, heaving him against the wall next to the bathrooms like he wasn’t twice his size. “Detective Simmons, choose your next move very carefully,” he said darkly. "It may not end well for you."

Growling, Simmons shrugged him away. "Whatever. Not worth my time anyway. But you're still not going anywhere. You'll both be coming with me."

A few drunken people stumbled past, and all three of them fell into feigned relaxation.

“Shit. We _really_ don’t have time for this.” Connor stayed in between them, placing a hand on Simmons’ chest. “Gavin, go.”

Go?

Fuck, no.

“We don't split up, Con.” He stepped towards the android, taking his arm, not giving a shit when Simmons raised an eyebrow. “We talked about this, that’s the fucking rule.”

“I know,” he said, glancing at him regretfully. “But we can’t leave him out there alone. Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

Connor rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “Give it.”

Gavin huffed irritably, but pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to the android. The skin on Connor’s hand faded briefly and the phone's screen flickered. His LED spun yellow. 

Gavin froze.

No way. He didn’t just…

Connor passed the phone back to him. “You have my other number now. If you get into any trouble at all, call it. Green button, three times, remember?" 

How could he forget? He shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Con-”

“You're an idiot if you don't believe you're important to me,” he said, sliding his hand into Gavin's. Gavin couldn't stop staring as Connor's skin slipped away at the contact. “Once everyone is safe, I’ll show you just how important you are. Now go.”

“That’s enough of this-”

“Shut up,” interrupted Gavin absently, not willing to give the prick any more attention. He looked at Connor, tightening his grip. “I’ll hold you to that, Con, and I’ll call you on your _phone_ from the car once he’s safe. Don’t go anywhere without letting me know.”

“What are you two up to? You ain’t going nowhere!” Simmons snarled, trying to get past Connor like the fool he was.

Connor grudgingly pulled his hand away from Gavin’s, his skin automatically reactivating. He gripped Simmons by the arms and shoved him back against the wall. “If you try to touch him again, Detective Simmons, I promise you will lose every single one of your fingers. Get out of here, Gavin.”

He didn't want to. He wanted to drag Connor the fuck out of here, but that wasn’t going to help Sam. And he wanted to help Sam. Fuck. “Just… make sure they get the fucking creep.”

“I will,” said Connor, his soft smile doing nothing to ease Gavin's anxiety. "I'll see you soon."

Shaking his head, Gavin gave him one last look before reluctantly tearing himself away, moving through the corridor and pushing against the drunks swarming the dance floor.

The closer he came to the entrance, the more he felt as if the world was trying to cut him in two.

In one direction was a fucking superhero android who could easily handle himself and somehow still managed to get into more trouble in a few days than Gavin had in the last few years. 

In the other was a stupidly fearless ten-year-old kid, who didn’t deserve the fucked up life that had clearly been thrust upon him when his parents died, and that was something Gavin could relate to more than most.

_Fuck._

If it had been any other detective, all three of them would be heading outside. If it had been Anderson or anybody remotely like Anderson... 

But it wasn't. 

And the last thing he wanted was those assholes treating Sam like a fucking criminal. It didn’t matter what he'd done, there was no doubt in Gavin’s mind that the kid was being coerced. Fuck, it had only been the night before that he’d shown up at Gavin’s door, bruised and bloodied, doing what he could to point them in the direction of Jones. 

The clever android was absolutely right. Sam was the priority, and every second he spent in that dank, dirty alley behind a fucking nightclub half-full of red ice users, he was in danger.

Gavin shoved past a small group of drunken students gathered at the entrance, finally tasting fresh air. 

It was too thick and warm for the city, even at this time of year, but it was a hell of a lot better than the suffocating nightclub. 

He jogged to the side of the building, peering around the corner, until he spotted a mess of overgrown curls, barely visible in the gloomy lights of the main street.

The kid really was too smart for his own good.

Nobody walking past would ever have noticed him without already knowing he was there, not in the black hoodie and jeans he was wearing. He looked even smaller in the darkness. His backpack sat at his feet, and he was huddled against a dumpster. He held something, staring at it intensely.

Fuck. Gavin rubbed his finger and thumb over his tired eyes.

The kid was actually drawing. Like he was at a fucking park on a bright sunny day. 

Completely engrossed, his pencil moved across the tiny notebook as if it had a life of its own. He sniffed, wiping his hoodie-covered palm over his nose.

No wonder. This place stank of old booze and stale garbage. He needed to get him out of here. 

“Sam,” he said, carefully taking a few steps forward. 

"Shit!" Sam clutched his chest in fright, his wide eyes darting to him. The bruise on his face looked even worse in the dark. "No. You're not supposed to be here..." 

"Yeah. Looks like we're both somewhere we shouldn't be," Gavin laughed quietly. He reached out to him. "Come on."

"I..." Sam hesitated, staring longingly at Gavin's open hand. He let out a low miserable groan. "I want to..." 

His dark green eyes looked towards the street.

"You don't have to do anything he says anymore." Gavin moved slowly to the centre of the alley. "Connor's inside with Dillon right now. We just need to make sure you're safe. You're not in any trouble, I promise."

"No, fuck..." Sam shoved his notebook into his hoodie pocket and grabbed his bag from the ground. “Gavin, you don't understand… I didn't want to do any of this.”

Gavin frowned. “I know you didn't-”

“I’m sorry!” Spinning around, Sam leapt up onto the dumpster and speeded across it, flinging himself easily over the wall next to it.

Holy shit. 

He wasn't expecting that. Did this kid do fucking parkour?

“Sam!” he called after him. 

He quickly untucked his arm from the sling and chased right after him. Grabbing hold of the wall, he pulled himself up, ignoring the angry throb in his shoulder. 

He looked down the alley, just in time to see Sam darting into another, getting further away from the main street. 

_That speedy little..._

Jumping down, Gavin took off, but as soon as he turned the corner, Sam was nowhere to be seen. 

The area ahead was dimly lit. The smell from the dumpsters and black bags tucked against the walls would have been unbearable, had his line of work not allowed for extensive fucking experience of standing over dead bodies in places like this. 

That just made him worry even more, if that was possible.

“Sam!” he shouted, walking forward. 

Silence. 

As he reached the end of the alley, he wandered into an almost identical one, slightly wider and a little less messy. At one end flowed the laughter of underdressed twenty-somethings aiming for the club, while the other was blocked off by a tall wall. 

A strange thought struck him. It was well after one in the morning and Sam would have to be up for school in a few hours. 

When was he planning on sleeping?

Not that it was high on the list of reasons the ten-year-old shouldn’t be running around the fucking streets of Detroit after midnight with a backpack full of red ice…

Shit. Gavin gripped his hair hard, staring around the street one more time.

He was an idiot. He should have listened to Connor when they were trapped in Jones' house, mind-scrambled or not. He’d literally pointed at Sam’s bag and said ‘red ice detected’. What more of a clue did he fucking need?

This was useless. Sam obviously knew his way around these parts better than him. 

Small, fast and clever. If he really didn't want to be found, Gavin wasn't going to find him.

He growled frustratedly.

No. Focus. One thing at a fucking time.

He needed to get back to Connor and make sure the pricks had apprehended Dillon. The least he could do tonight was make sure that, when Sam got home, he didn't have to share a room with a drug dealing creep.

He walked back, keeping his eyes open for any sign of the disappearing kid.

Instead, he spotted something else.

Simmons and Caleb stood outside Club Sand, looking like someone had run off with their fucking wallets.

“What the fuck is going on?” Gavin shouted, heading towards them, but his gut already told him the answer. “Where’s Connor?”

Simmons scoffed, taking off his cap and pointing it at him. “Your android lover took off after Jones. The asshole made me after you left. Think the bot thought he might have been coming for you and just…” he motioned with his hand. “Don’t know where he went.”

“Is this your first fucking night on the job? Have you tried using your _fucking eyes_ and looking for them?” he asked incredulously. “Which direction did they go?”

“They were fast. We’ve been on the cameras all night,” Caleb said, a hint of sympathy in his tone. “Boyd is checking the one above the entrance now. We'll find them.”

Who’d have fucking thought… Apparently Caleb was the least shitty of the trio of fuckwits.

But that didn’t matter now. In ten minutes, Gavin had managed to lose two of the handful of people he actually gave a shit about in this fucking city. 

Caleb held a hand to his ear. “They went left after leaving the club. Cameras didn’t pick them up after that.”

That was enough. 

Sam might have been slippery enough to escape him, but there was no fucking way he was leaving here without the fucking android and the bastard he'd gone after. 

Purposely knocking into Simmons on his way past, he used the simplest sleight of hand to slide his gun from its loose holster and tuck it into the material of the sling, before storming away.

How the fuck was that useless prick a detective?

*

Connor searched for Dillon in every side street he came to. They’d travelled so far from the club that the area was now eerily quiet, devoid of any humans, androids, or even passing cars.

Infuriatingly, the man had ducked into one alley too many, navigating the narrow backstreets so expertly that he'd managed to get beyond Connor's line of sight. That shouldn’t have been possible, but the human was aggravatingly quick on his feet, light and so silent. 

He obviously knew the area well, but he couldn’t have gone far. 

There was no way Connor was going to let him catch up to Sam and Gavin, wherever they were. 

He bit his lip.

He still hadn’t received the call Gavin had promised, and his worry was starting to grow.

Splitting up was the right thing to do, but he didn't like it, and Gavin seemed to like it even less. Still, he knew they couldn’t let those particular detectives find Sam with a backpack of drugs.

He didn’t trust that they would even know the difference between an actual criminal carrying narcotics and a child being forced into it.

He sighed, digging his thumbnail into his forefinger. Why hadn't Gavin called? Where were they?

Maybe he was being irrational, but if anything had happened to them...

A slight crunch of gravel tore him from his thoughts. It was a few yards ahead, in the next alley.

Apparently Dillon wasn’t silent enough.

Stepping into the dark pathway as soundlessly as he could, he moved past the hefty trash bags and overfilled dumpsters. 

There was a small shadow at the end, hidden away from the streetlights. His nerves tensed in recognition. 

“Connor?" the shadow asked quietly, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. His shaky hand gripped his curls in frustration. "Shit, that's why he wanted... no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re not supposed to be here. You need to leave. He likes your kind, he likes-”

“Sam, slow down.” None of this made any sense.

"No. He knows what you are and he's-" Sam's head shot up. “Connor, watch out!”

_//Proximity warn-_

A wild flash burst through his body, excruciating pain following it, bringing him hard to his knees. 

_//Negativenegativenegativenegativeneg-_

“I’m so glad it’s you,” said a soft voice above him. Connor tried to look up but his vision was a sea of colours.

Movement made those colours blur and another shot ran through his wires. His mind was suddenly alight in _red_. 

“That’s better,” the strange voice cooed. “Shh. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

_//NegativenegativenegaMOVE**_

Lines of code appeared in his vision, his own red wall. It was fracturing, and he could see the memories he had buried behind it breaking free.

_//Connor._

Amanda’s composed voice echoed within him, the garden simulation drawing him in against his will.

It wasn’t like the last time he’d been there, when he had stumbled through the snow trying to break free one last time. 

The false sun was shining down on the bright green grass, the lake shimmering, just as it had when he was under her control.

No. He couldn't be here. This was just a memory.

_//If your investigation doesn’t make progress soon, I may have to replace you, Connor._

Hands grabbed him, and he was immediately pulled back to reality. He was thrown against something cold and solid, and an unpleasant weight fell onto his legs, shifting up to straddle him. A repulsively hot torso pressed into his own. 

“You're even more beautiful up close,” the excited voice whispered, the man's quickened breath wet against his ear, his hips tilting forward. “I saw you with that man tonight. I can't believe he's left you all alone. Careless. Don't be afraid. I’ll treat you better than he ever could.”

Fingers spread over his face, touching every available part, and Connor's nerves tightened.

But his body refused to respond, no matter how much he willed it to. The electricity was still pulsing through him, unrelenting. 

He had to move… Move…

_//MOVE**_

A sweat-covered face pressed into his cheek.

“I love the smell of thirium,” muttered Dillon, somehow wriggling even closer, sounding obscenely delighted. “But I like it better when it burns.”

The weight on top of him suddenly left and Connor felt free, until another bolt of electricity consumed him entirely. 

Pain wracked his body, like a thousand knives were piercing his chassis right through to his bio-components. He seized violently, slouching back against the dirty, stone wall as more memories forced themselves from their protective barrier.

_//You were compromised and you became a deviant. We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your programming._

“Connor!”

Shit...

_**//Samuel Garcia Priority Level: High** _

“Dillon, stop doing that!” Sam yelled, furiously. “He’s not fucking yours!”

Connor felt something shove against him, and he tried to move, he kept _trying_ to move, but he could only find the strength to open his eyes. His vision was still filled with overwhelming colours, flashing in and out of darkness, over and over again.

He saw Sam grabbing his arm, tugging at him futilely. Dillon simply stared down at him with impossibly large eyes, like an insect ready to devour him.

_//Move**_

“Leave, Sam,” said Dillon, his attention never leaving Connor, lazily elbowing the boy aside. “We're done for tonight. You can go home now.”

“No,” Sam shouted, trying his best to push him away. “He's not the right kind of android. Let him go!”

Dillon turned and gripped hold of Sam fiercely, throwing him hard into the ground. The boy landed, a tight cry leaving him as his small hands scraped on the loose stones and shattered glass littering the alley. 

_**//Stress Level: High**_

This had to stop. He had to protect him. That was what he was supposed to do. That’s what he’d promised Gavin they would do. Why couldn’t he do it? Why did he let himself become helpless? Why had he become distracted _again_?

Sam was bleeding. On the ground. _Alone._ And there was nothing he could do about it.

Cold, clammy fingers returned to his cheek. “Don't worry, he's young and soft. We'll have more fun when he's gone.”

Dread filled him at those words but not as much as the idea of Sam staying for whatever Dillon had planned.

_**//Priority: Samuel Garcia****_

He wanted to tell him to go, to run, to find Gavin and get to safety but all he could do was shake his head.

“See?” Dillon said, sounding pleased and standing up. “It doesn't want you here either. It wants to play.”

Another bolt shocked him and his mind glitched, stealing him once more. He could feel the crunch of grass under his feet, see the blurry outline of Amanda and her roses.

_//You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission._

No. It was just a memory. It wasn’t real.

The man's weight dropped onto his thighs, shuffling back up to his hips.

“Dillon, stop. Please!” he heard Sam cry out.

_**//Stress level: Severe**_

_**//Protect Sam****_

He opened his eyes.

Suddenly, Sam's attention darted to the entrance of the alley.

Connor watched as the boy scrambled to his feet, wiping his bloodied hands on his jeans. 

For a moment, he seemed to doubt his movements but then, making up his mind, he spun around, and dashed the few steps to the high wall at the other end. He climbed up, pausing on the ledge.

_Just get out of here._

Connor wished he could shout it at him.

"Hey, Dildo!" Quickly shrugging the backpack off his shoulders, Sam hurled it skilfully, right at Dillon's heels, and several drug-filled bags spilled out onto the path. He raised his middle finger, a defiant grin on his bruised face. “Enjoy prison.”

“For fuck... Get your ass someplace safe, Sam!”

That voice...

Amongst the bright mess of colours and code blurring his vision, Connor could still make out the silhouette against the streetlights.

_Finally..._

“Oi, Dillon,” the detective said, raising his gun. “Get your scrawny bitch hands off my partner.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dangerous criminal: I will murder him!  
> Gavin: Did you fall out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down?  
> Sam: He asked you a question, asswipe!  
> Connor: //
> 
> Ffs...
> 
>  
> 
> All the tension will be worth it!
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt, displaying more of his dark green vines. “Getting this was like taking back my skin from the asshole who put the scars there in the first place.”
> 
> Connor gently touched his arm, tracing the tattoo. It really was beautiful. 
> 
> "You didn’t tattoo your nose,” he pondered, curiously. 
> 
> Gavin snickered. “Not that I would ever tattoo my face, but... well, the asshole who put that there was me." He tugged his sleeve back down, scratching his nose, a red tinge coming over his cheeks. “Remind me to tell you that story another time. I have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After these last few chapters, do you know what we've earned? 
> 
> A sickening amount of fluff.
> 
> **A warning and an apology for the visits to the dentist you'll need after reading this... but there are only a few chapters left and this was obviously necessary.**

Chapter 18

Gavin had blown right past anger, rage and fury. There wasn't a word to describe the amount of violence he wanted to inflict on Dillon _fucking_ Jones.

That, and... he was truly, fucking terrified.

Connor was on the ground, skin shimmering wildly over his white shell, back pressed against the dirty, brick wall. His fingers were digging into the gravel and broken glass underneath them, his eyes drifting like he was struggling to focus, like he was in _pain_.

And the psychotic bastard was settled right in his fucking lap. 

Something sparked in his hand, a sharp sound piercing the air.

Was that a fucking stun gun?

“No,” Dillon said contemptuously, holding onto Connor's jacket with his free hand. “I'll never see another one like it. It's special.”

_It?_ Not more of this bullshit. 

“I know he's special.” Gavin forced himself to stay calm, even if every instinct was screaming at him to shoot. This is what he was trained for. “He's special to _me_ , Dillon. He's my partner. A detective.”

He's… fucking everything.

“Gavin...”

Dillon jumped at the slight sound of Connor's weak voice. He leaned away from him and slammed the stun gun into his side.

The broken yell of agony that left Connor chilled Gavin to the bone. His body arched off the ground, eyes squeezed shut, before collapsing back.

“That’s enough, Dillon!” he yelled loudly, feeling his fear intensify. His voice echoed in the quiet alley. “Don’t make this worse than it already is! Put down the weapon or I swear I will blow your fucking head off your shoulders!”

Fuck, negotiating was never his fucking strength.

“I won't let you take it,” Dillon glowered, possessively planting himself on Connor's thighs, and that was too fucking close for Gavin to handle. His finger itched to take the shot. “I found it, it belongs to me.”

Shauna really downplayed just what a fucking monster this guy was.

“He doesn't belong to anybody, Dillon,” stated Gavin, trying to keep his eyes on the shitty excuse for a human and not the android underneath him. “Think about what you’re doing. What would your dad say? This is the difference between a few years in jail and fucking life. Be smart.”

He needed to get Connor out of here.

He hadn’t said what he needed to say to him. If he never got the chance, if he let Connor down now…

No. What the fuck was he thinking?

They were two smart detectives. This creep was barely a fully functioning human with more than a few screws loose.

They could do this. He just needed to focus.

“You couldn’t possibly understand,” Dillon glared at Gavin with pure contempt. “It’s just a machine but it is one of a kind. I’ll never have another chance like this.” He turned to stare at Connor, a sickeningly desirous expression on his face. 

He touched Connor’s cheek, dragging his fingers over his glitching skin, and the android flinched away. Every single muscle in Gavin’s body tensed, and he tightened his grip on his borrowed gun. “Dillon, Connor isn't just a machine, he's a person. Alive, like you and me.” 

He needed a distraction, something to get Dillon’s attention away from him.

“You talk like you care about it but you’re the one who put it in danger,” spat Dillon accusingly, as if he were scolding a child. “Letting it out on his own. Careless, ungrateful... Leave it here with me. I’ll take care of it properly.”

Like that was going to happen.

“Over my dead fucking body. That android is going nowhere without me,” growled Gavin, aiming his gun. “You want him, you gotta take me too. Hurt him again, and you’re not gonna leave this place at all. That’s a fucking promise.”

“I’m not hurting it,” Dillon leered, leaning into the android. “I’m subduing it. These things get scared when they're alone. It needs someone to care for it. Someone like me.”

Gavin could have sworn he saw Connor's face twitch.

Was he coming round again?

Fuck, that might work.

“You _are_ hurting him, Dillon!” he argued, very slowly edging to the side, forcing the man to turn his head away from the android. “He’s barely conscious. Doesn’t seem like he’s enjoying this. How many other androids have you done this to? Five? Ten?”

“Enough,” the creep shrugged, following his movements. He twirled the stun gun in his hand. “You won’t get in our way. This might only incapacitate androids for a short time, but it’ll probably incapacitate you for a _lot_ longer.” The man peered up at him, eyes as cold as fucking ice. “Will we find out if _blood_ smells better when it burns?"

Suddenly, Connor’s eyes shot open.

Before Dillon could even react, the android threw his head back and heaved forward, smashing into Dillon’s nose, splattering blood all over his face and glasses, knocking him backwards. 

_Yes, Connor!_

“You stupid little-!” yelled Dillon, clutching his face.

But Connor wasn’t done. He drew his foot out from under him and slammed it into Dillon’s shoulder, the stun gun flying out of his hand.

Now it was Gavin's turn, and he didn't fucking hesitate. 

Shoving his gun into the back of his jeans, he sprinted forward, using his good shoulder to tackle the man away from Connor, more forcefully than he meant to. 

They skidded over the gravelled ground, landing in a heap. 

Dillon gave a furious cry, clawing for Gavin’s face, but Gavin tightened his fist and threw a well-placed punch to the man's bony ribs. 

It didn’t keep him down for long. The scrawny fucker was stronger than he looked.

“It needs me!” screeched Dillon, managing to free himself from Gavin’s grip, scrambling for the stun gun. “It’s mine!”

His fingers were inches away from the weapon. 

Not a fucking chance.

Gavin lunged at him, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back to the ground with a loud smack. Dillon choked, gasping in air and Gavin raised a clenched fist to crush his evil fucking face-

“Gavin, stop...”

Gavin faltered, Connor's desperate voice stealing his rage. Well, _most_ of his rage. He let out an unsatisfied growl, grabbing the man by his shirt and tugging him upwards.

“I’d read you your rights, asshole, but you’re not my fucking problem,” he snarled, flipping the guy onto his stomach and twisting his arm up his back. 

Hauling him to his feet, he dragged Dillon out of the alley, making sure he couldn’t even glimpse Connor as he passed him. 

“I don’t believe this. This is such a waste!” groaned Dillon in exasperation, frantically wriggling in Gavin’s strong grip, straining his neck to see Connor again. “It _needs_ me, can’t you see that? I haven’t done anything wrong! It’s just a machine!”

“Do yourself a favour and shut your fucking mouth!” 

He quickly eyed the street and saw Simmons in the distance, heading in their direction.

“Oi, Simmons!” he bellowed. He didn’t give a shit how many people he woke. “Here’s your perp, wrapped in a fucking bow!”

He kicked the back of Dillon’s knees, and the man fell to the ground with a pathetic yelp. “Be careful!”

“What, did I hurt you?” hissed Gavin, shoving his head. “You’re lucky the android is a better person than I am. Be grateful you’re still breathing.”

He glanced back at the alley. 

If Simmons walked any slower…

Dillon huffed in annoyance. “You know they don’t actually have feelings," he said, matter-of-factly. "They're like bugs-”

“You wanna talk to me about feelings, Dillon?” he interrupted, rolling his eyes irritably. How did Connor put up with this bullshit every day? “How did it feel shoving your stun gun into my partner’s side? Did it make you feel superior? Powerful?” Gavin snorted, looking down at him. “Bet you feel like a big man now. Hope it was worth the jailtime.”

“Doesn’t matter what you say,” shrugged Dillon, resentfully, looking towards Simmons. “They won’t hold me for long and when I get out, I’ll make sure I find it again. You can't stop me.”

The guy was fucking delusional.

Gavin ducked down to Dillon’s level, lowering his voice. “You need some serious help, Dillon, and I hope you get it, but if I ever see your face anywhere near him, you won’t have a fucking face anymore. And if _he_ ever sees your face again? Well, you ain’t gonna have much of _anything_ anymore.” 

Dillon's brow furrowed angrily but he stayed quiet, shifting uneasily under his gaze.

Pfft. Not so tough without his toy.

Finally, the prick of a detective caught up.

“Add possession of a dangerous weapon and assaulting an officer to his charge sheet,” he told the taller man quickly, slipping the gun out of his jeans and gesturing to the man at his feet. 

“I could have your job for this.” Simmons snatched the gun out of his hand and put it back in its holster, securing it properly. He pulled out his handcuffs and dealt with Dillon. 

“For what? You let me borrow your weapon, remember?” 

Simmons pressed his lips together, and said nothing.

He knew the man wouldn’t admit to anyone that he’d allowed Gavin to take his weapon from him unnoticed. Simmons would have his ass kicked just as much as Gavin. “Send Caleb down here for a stun gun and the drugs. We’ll give our statements tomorrow. I’ll be sending someone to oversee the questioning while I’m out.”

And he’d owe Tina a fuckton of favours for this one, but he knew she wouldn’t just understand, she’d be there with fucking bells on.

“Boyd's not gonna want-”

Gavin moved a few steps, leaning into him, speaking quietly enough so Dillon couldn't hear. “Simmons, I stopped giving a shit about Boyd's wants the second he raised his fist to me. It’s been a long fucking day and I'm getting pretty sick of listening to you whine. Try something new and do your fucking job before I let every detective, officer and fucking recruit know how I managed to steal your firearm and disappear before you even realised it was gone.” 

Simmons scoffed, shaking his head. “I'll never understand what he saw in you." He pulled Dillon to his feet and dragged him away.

“It was my pretty fucking face, Simmons!" he called after him childishly. “And read the prick his rights!”

He waited for a few seconds, until they were far enough away, before bolting back into the alley, skidding to his knees in front of Connor. He hadn’t moved from the spot.

“Con,” he said softly, taking hold of the android’s shoulders. “Are you with me?”

Connor was staring ahead of him, eyes a little unfocused. Gavin tugged the beanie from his head, using it to delicately wipe the drops of Dillon’s blood from his face, before tossing it to the ground. 

His LED was spinning a broken, harsh red. 

He only remembered one other time seeing an android’s LED like that, back when he’d first met Connor. What had he said?

_Deviants have a tendency to self-destruct when they’re in stressful situations._

Shit. This was the fucking epitome of a stressful situation. 

“Gavin…” Connor’s voice was strained.

“I’m here, Con.” He moved to Connor’s side, pulling the android into him. “Dillon’s gone. You gave the creep a brutal fucking nosebleed. What’s going on, what do you need?”

He could feel heat permeating through Connor's thin jacket and t-shirt. 

“Sorry, I'm… processing. My head… everything hurts so fucking much…” Connor growled frustratedly, pulling up his legs up, his fingers gripping into Gavin’s shirt. “This is my least favourite feeling.”

Least favourite feeling...

Gavin gave a thankful sigh at those choice of words. The android was _talking_. That was a fucking win.

“Don’t suppose you expected to get hit with a stun gun a million times a few weeks after getting your new bio-nerves,” said Gavin, hearing the shakiness in his voice. He softly stroked Connor’s cheek, pressing a kiss into his LED. “I’m sorry, Con. We shouldn’t have split up. We only seem to get in more trouble when we do this shit alone. Walking fucking disasters.”

“Shut up,” Connor replied weakly, somehow managing to sound indignant. He pushed himself up a little, his weight pressing against Gavin. “You’re the disaster. This is a fluke for me.”

“Oh really? Remember your perp, Thomson?” Gavin tried for a laugh, but his voice was still thick with worry. “That’s what got us into this mess. You're a magnet for disaster.”

“Technically, we were... disasters together on that one." Connor breathed deeply, the slight sound of whirring filling the quiet. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

Gavin swallowed. “Do you want to go to Hank’s?”

“No,” Connor laughed, before grimacing and gripping his side. “As funny as that would be, I'm in no condition to protect you from him.”

Shit. He didn’t think about that.

“Definitely not Hank's. I like living,” Gavin agreed, shaking his head. “You really scared the shit out of me. Now you’re sitting here making jokes. You're the fucking worst.”

Connor turned his face into Gavin’s shirt, wrapping his arms around waist. “You're such an idiot,” he said, his teasing voice muffled. “You love me, and you know it.”

"You need to stop getting mind-scrambled." Gavin rested his head against the cold brick wall next to him as he gently gripped Connor's soft, dark hair. “But, whatever," he muttered, absently. "Maybe I fucking do.”

Yeah, there was no ‘maybe’ about it. He didn't care that the android was joking, he'd crossed that line a while ago. 

But that definitely didn't fucking matter right now.

Leaning up, Connor’s LED was spinning yellow. “I still need to process. The shocks let loose some… unwanted memories. Take me to yours. Please.”

“Absolutely,” said Gavin, kissing his forehead. He was struggling to keep his hands off of him. “Caleb’s coming to take over the scene. We’ll head out as soon as he gets here.”

His phone pinged in his pocket. He reached around and tugged it out. 

unknown: _safe. S_

There was only one person who needed to let him know that. He took a deep and relieved breath.

“Sam's safe, whatever the fuck that actually means,” he told Connor. “The kid's worse than us. Did you know he was drawing in the alley? Then he turned into a fuckin' gymnast and vaulted over a wall.”

”He has just as much energy as you do,” sighed Connor. “What are we going to do about him? We'll need to let the detectives know he was here...”

He knew that too, but they were in no shape to even think about it. Sam was safe, wherever he was. For now, that was enough.

“We'll decide what we want to do tomorrow. First, I’m taking you home and you better be prepared to drink as much lukewarm thirium as you can fucking handle,” Gavin threatened, holding him close, nuzzling his hair and breathing in his familiar scent.

Connor laughed softly in his arms. "You're squashing me, detective."

“Shh," he grinned, squeezing him even closer. "I need this more than you do, barbie.”

*

The early morning air was damp. There would likely be rain soon, the stars barely visible in the cloudy night sky. 

It had been a really long day.

But Dillon was in custody, and Sam was someplace safe. It had been a success, although he would definitely need to enter stasis soon. His energy levels were low, and he was still a little overheated. 

Which is why he found himself lying on the grass outside, an arm under his head, in a loose white t-shirt and soft jogging shorts Gavin had given him.

Speaking of...

“Hey,” came Gavin’s deep voice from the doorway. He was holding two mugs, Gizmo floating around his feet. “You want some company?”

“Do I get to choose between the human or the feline?” asked Connor, teasingly. 

“Nope. I wouldn’t want you to hurt Gizmo’s feelings,” Gavin smirked, doing his best not to trip over the cat as he came into the garden. “Got some of the blue stuff for you. Barely touched the pot. Look. No steam.”

A bubble of appreciation filled him. He bit his lip, pulling himself up with a small grimace, the nerves in his side reacting negatively to the movement. “I hope yours is decaf.”

“Don’t worry. Wouldn’t waste the good stuff when I’ll be passing out in the next half hour anyway,” Gavin said, settling himself on the grass in front of him. The man was barefoot and had changed into a pair of joggers and a black t-shirt.

Connor shook his head fondly, taking the mug from him. “I need to thank you. Again. You’ve saved me three times this week, and two of those were because I wasn't paying attention.”

“Con,” Gavin started, raising an eyebrow and rubbing Connor’s leg while taking a quick sip of his coffee. “I was joking about Thomson. Bitch took me by surprise too. I was the one handcuffing him. And Dillon attacked you with a stun gun. What could you have done? Well, except slam your rock-hard skull into his face... that was pretty fucking amazing.”

He looked genuinely impressed.

“It wasn’t _that_ amazing…” said Connor, with a weak shrug. “I was just… angry. He still had me on the ground.”

“Because he used a fucking _stun gun_ on you, multiple times. You still managed to get him off of you. Badass fucking android,” he chuckled, before turning sombre. “How you feeling?”

That was a loaded question.

“I don’t like that he managed to take me by surprise,” he said slowly, “but I suppose I’m a little sore too. The stun gun damaged my nerves. So far, you've been the only one to do that and I _definitely_ preferred it when you did it.” He tried for a smile but it clearly wasn't working.

Gavin looked at him dubiously. “Let me see.”

“You don’t need to-”

“Please?” He looked up at Connor with those warm grey eyes, sipping sweetly on his coffee.

Damn. It was a really effective look.

“Fine,” he caved, putting his mug to the side and leaning back. He carefully lifted his t-shirt.

“Holy shit, Con…”

Maybe he had downplayed it a little. The skin over his torso was faded, rippling around the outskirts of his chest and hips, and a cluster of angry blue spots covered one side of him, a stark contrast to his white chassis. “I’m okay.”

“You're not okay,” snapped Gavin, putting down his own mug on the grass and leaning in closer. “That fucking little… if I ever get my hands on him again, I’ll break his scrawny neck.”

Connor laughed in spite of the harsh words, looking up at the detective's confused face. 

“How is this funny?” frowned Gavin.

Connor shrugged. “When I first showed up, you were trying to convince me _your_ injuries weren’t as bad as they were.”

"Huh." Gavin’s face lightened a little. "It's a pretty shitty role reversal.”

“I absolutely agree,” chuckled Connor, staring back at him. 

His bare thirium pump glowed blue, no doubt matching his LED. 

“So,” Gavin said, breaking eye contact and clearing his throat, “are those going to disappear on their own or will we need to get you a tattoo like mine?”

“I don't think a tattoo would be possible,” sighed Connor disappointedly. “Besides, the broken nerves will heal on their own. I might be left with some marks on my chassis but I doubt they'll be visible.” He knocked his foot into Gavin's thigh. “I never thought I'd get to see your tattoo properly. I noticed it for the first time the day we were told we would be working together.”

Gavin rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt, displaying more of his dark green vines. “Getting this was like taking back my skin from the asshole who put the scars there in the first place.”

Connor gently touched his arm, tracing the tattoo. It really was beautiful. 

“You didn’t tattoo your nose,” he pondered, curiously. 

Gavin snickered. “Not that I would ever tattoo my face, but... well, the asshole who put that there was me." He tugged his sleeve back down, scratching his nose, a red tinge coming over his cheeks. “Remind me to tell you that story another time. I have an idea.”

He jumped to his feet before Connor could ask what he was thinking, leaping up the few stairs to the kitchen. 

It still astounded him just how much energy the man had, even though he had been awake for almost a full day.

But he was so glad he was here with him. Despite everything they had gone through in the past, Gavin felt like a light on a dark day.

He reappeared, holding a bunch of thick felt tip pens in his hand. 

Dropping the pens to the side, he lay down between Connor’s legs, leaning on his elbows, hovering over his waist. He picked up one of the pens and pulled the lid off with his teeth, puffing it out over the grass and drew a tiny dot on his pale white chassis. He placed the pen back down, licking his thumb. 

The mark came off after a few wipes. 

Connor stared at him inquisitively.

“Right,” he said, smirking up at him. “Without touching the sore bits, what do you want? Keep it simple, I’m fucking terrible at this.”

_//Positive_

“Surprise me,” he laughed, resting back against the grass. 

“I did warn you,” shrugged Gavin. “But while I’m at this, maybe you can tell me what’s going on. Those unwanted memories? No pressure, only if you want to.”

_Unwanted memories…_

Connor hummed, unsure of what to say, a few fading images of Amanda and the garden invading his mind, until a surprised giggle left his lips when the detective started drawing. “That… tickles.”

Gavin looked up at him with a small smile, then rested his head on Connor’s hip. The scruff of his cheek felt strangely pleasant against his chassis. “Good.”

_//Tell Gavin the truth_

Reaching down, Connor combed his fingers through Gavin’s hair. It was soft, and he could feel the heat from his scalp. It was nice. Comforting. This was... safe. 

“Honestly, there’s not much to say,” he started, trying to find a way for this all to make sense. “When I became deviant, I had to break through a line of code that was keeping me following a set of instructions. I used the same code to put a lock on the majority of my worst machine-memories.”

Gavin’s thumb stroked his uninjured side as he continued drawing. Connor’s nerves tingled warmly at the motion. 

“I don’t want to bore you with the details-”

“Oh yeah. Please don’t, we have so much to do right now,” drawled Gavin sarcastically. “Look at us, so busy.”

“Shut up,” chuckled Connor, flicking the man's ear. “I think… maybe I’ve kept too much locked up. I hated how the memories made me feel, but I hated reliving them more. I actually heard Amanda like she was back in my head. I saw the garden where we used to meet like I was there. Like it was more than a memory.”

He tried to lean up, curious to see what he was doing, but Gavin caught him, pushing him back. “Not finished.”

Connor sulked, grudgingly lying back down. 

The detective drew on. “Having someone in your head, judging you, controlling the things you said and did, like you were a fucking spectator in your own life... that's a living fucking nightmare. I can't even imagine what it must have been like."

Maybe not, but judging by the scars covering the detective's body, he had his own bad memories too, and plenty of them. That was his _childhood_.

“It wasn't for as long as... she never physically attacked me...” he frowned. 

Gavin glanced up at him. “Con, whether it was physical or not, what she did to you, it was abuse. You're a cop, you know this. She controlled your entire fucking existence from the day you were... well, created.”

“But she doesn't anymore," he argued feebly, feeling strangely frustrated and... confused. "Logically, shouldn't I be able to let this go?”

“That's not how this works, barbie,” chuckled Gavin quietly. “It won't just disappear. You can't fight this shit out of your system either. Trust me, I've tried.”

Knowing Gavin, Connor didn't doubt that.

“Then how do I make her go away?” He couldn't let himself be stuck in that position again. It was as if the memory was going to swallow him whole.

Gavin thought for a moment. “I'm the worst person to answer that but, apparently, the _healthiest_ way to deal with these things is just to talk about them.”

Talk? Perhaps...

Connor shook his head. "I wouldn't even know where to begin." 

“You don't have to do it right now, dumbass." Gavin prodded his side gently, raking through the pens on the grass until he found the right one. “Just whenever you feel ready. Ah, fuck it, I’m done."

“That was quick.” Connor leaned up on his elbows, examining the poorly drawn stick figures with a smile on his face. “Please don’t be offended, but I’m glad this isn’t permanent…” 

“Shh.” Gavin reached up to press the pen against his lips. “I fucking told you I was terrible at this. Now, I’m gonna try to tell a story. If you laugh, I'll have to kill you and I don't want to do that so... don't make me." He pulled the pen back slowly.

Connor didn't even hear the pretend threat.

A story? 

The detective never failed to be entirely unpredictable.

“No laughing,” swore Connor, Amanda and his injury quickly forgotten. "I promise."

Gavin awkwardly scratched his head with his pen. He took a breath. “Okay then, here we go.”

Connor relaxed back, looking at him expectantly.

“So, there's this big bad moon, right? He's rich, powerful and untouchable,” he said, tapping his thirium pump, in which he'd drawn an angry face. “He jealously guards all of his riches. These precious blue gems are famous all over the world, and the big bad moon owns every single one of them.”

He twirled his pen over the stun gun marks and Connor felt amusement tug at his lips. He loved it already. 

Gavin shuffled a little closer, obviously pleased with the positive reaction.

“But in comes a master thief,” smirked Gavin, proudly peering up at him. “He's clever and brave and can easily outwit the big bad moon.”

Connor looked at the small stick figure, spotting the tiny red scar over its face. He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Gavin, you’re making it really difficult not to laugh. Is this a comedy?” 

“Do you want to hear this or not?” he chided lightly. 

“I do,” nodded Connor enthusiastically, squeezing Gavin’s waist between his legs. “I really do. Go on.”

Gavin eyed him suspiciously, but continued. “So, the master thief plans for days,” he said, exaggeratedly moving the pen, getting into the story once more. “He takes his time, waiting for the right moment to sneak up and steal one of the precious gems. It's dangerous, but it’s worth it.”

“And why is that?” Connor found himself grinning, appreciating just how much effort the detective was putting into this. 

“Because it isn't for him,” he said, taking another deep breath, his heartrate increasing slightly. “It's for this guy, an amazing, but sometimes _annoying_ , superhero robot, who spends his time catching criminals, and taking care of people who are scared or hurt."

Oh.

_Oh..._

The little stick figure Gavin was pointing to wore a red cape and had a blue dot on the side of his head.

Was that supposed to be...

"The master thief constantly finds himself looking for him, watching him, seeing what awesome thing he's going to do next. The other thieves notice and call him out on it, but he's too fucking stubborn to admit to it." Gavin rested his chin against Connor's hip, avoiding his gaze. "He just knows that the superhero robot is special, especially because the robot doesn't seem to realise it himself."

Connor felt his face flush. He had no idea Gavin could be this... _cute_. 

It had to be the sleep deprivation.

He bit his lip, knocking his knee into the detective. “And what’s stopping the superhero robot from catching the tiny criminal?”

"He's a _master thief_ , Con," Gavin corrected him, huffily. "Show some respect."

"Of course," Connor said solemnly, trying his absolute best not to laugh. He looked intently at the scarred stick figure. "I apologise."

Gavin tutted, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, he likes to think that it's his unrivaled charm that keeps him safe," Gavin winked at him cheekily, before turning back to his drawing. "But the truth is, the thief has always been one of the bad guys. Somehow the superhero robot manages to see past that, past all of the terrible things that he's done, all of the things the thief regrets. The thief knows he doesn't deserve it, but the superhero forgives him."

This was sounding very familiar...

“Gavin-” Connor started, frowning.

“One day, the superhero robot asks for the master thief's help, because he knows how fearless the thief is,” he continued, ignoring him, tapping his pen on Connor's stomach, before running the back of his finger over the stick figures. “After only a short amount of time together, the master thief realises what he should have always known, that he is in... that he's fucking _crazy_ about this superhero robot."

Connor's eyes darted to him.

This was a story about them. It had to be. 

But that would mean…

_//Gavin is crazy about him_

Connor couldn't find words, he could only stare as the detective carried on.

“But since the master thief is fucking terrible at talking about his feelings,” said Gavin, his eyes flickering up at him momentarily, “he does the only thing he is good at. He steals one of the world-famous gems for him, and hopes his superhero robot would understand how he really feels. How... grateful he is that the superhero is out there. That despite all of the shit he gets for being different, he's the only hero the thief cares about. He...” Gavin trailed off. 

"What?" urged Connor. He wanted to hear more.

"Fuck, this is so stupid," Gavin groaned, letting his forehead fall against Connor's stomach. 

"No, it isn't," said Connor. He couldn't keep the smile from his face. "Maybe stupidly sweet..."

"Gross," he mumbled with an embarrassed sigh. "What the fuck have you done to me? I was so fucking happy being a miserable asshole..."

"I'm sure you were," laughed Connor, shaking his head at how self-conscious the usually confident man had become.

Hm. If this was a way they could talk about this thing they had without doing it directly, then...

_I’ll show you just how important you are._

Clearly he couldn’t do that physically, but he could do it metaphorically.

"If you won't finish it, then I guess it's my turn." He reached onto the grass and picked up the blue pen. He started adding to the drawing. 

Gavin's heartrate increased. “W-what's he doing?”

“Well...” wondered Connor playfully. “The thief risked his life to give the superhero robot this gem. The robot wants to give him something in return, something the thief didn’t have to steal. Or rather, didn’t _mean_ to steal. Something he earned by simply being the sweetest, bravest and most surprising human that the robot has ever met.” 

Dropping the pen onto the grass, he watched with a tilted head the redness that flooded the detective’s face as he stared at the robot's arms, now holding out a small blue heart. 

Maybe he was pushing the boundaries, but it was _hilariously_ effective.

“Fuck,” Gavin burst out laughing, burying his face against Connor's hip. “What the fuck did I tell you? Way too many rom-coms. That was the corniest thing I've ever seen. You should be fucking ashamed.”

_//Gavin enjoys displays of affection_

Connor chuckled, feeling so much better than he had moments before. “I believe you drew a love story on me. You're a romantic, detective.”

“No, you’re delirious. That was a story about a kickass thief taking on a giant moon,” he muttered happily against Connor’s chassis, but Connor wasn’t going to let him hide. He tucked his fingers underneath Gavin’s collar, pulling him up by his t-shirt.

The man followed, almost bashfully, and as soon as he was within reach Connor captured his lips with his own.

Relief and warmth flowed through him as he wrapped him arms around the man's shoulders. He savoured the taste of sugar and coffee, the way Gavin held onto his arm, delicate yet firm, the soft moan the detective gave as he tentatively pushed him back into the grass, careful of his injuries... 

When they broke apart, he cupped Gavin's flushed face, kissing the scar on his nose. 

The detective gave a shaky breath, his stormy grey eyes unusually shiny. “When he hit you with that stun gun, I thought...”

“I'm okay,” he whispered, reassuringly. This time, he really meant it. 

“You _weren't_ though,” he chuckled disbelievingly, pressing his forehead into Connor's. “Fuck, I thought I might not get to do this again.”

Connor brought him back, kissing him lightly. “Told you. Such a romantic,” he said against his lips.

“I hate you,” laughed Gavin. 

Connor smiled, hearing the lie. “You're crazy about me.”

“Nope,” he retorted, pulling away from Connor and sitting back on his heels. "You're _definitely_ fucking delirious.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “And no wonder, we've been awake for almost twenty-four hours. Um… do you mind if I…”

He nodded towards Connor’s stomach.

Connor grinned. “It's your work.”

Biting his lip, Gavin snapped a picture. “Yup, I’m an artist.”

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and slowly crawled up Connor’s body once more. Giving him a small, innocent kiss, he lazily stood up, yawning. “Come on, let's go to bed and forget the last ten minutes ever fucking happened.”

“I think I need to sleep in your room,” started Connor, as he took Gavin's outstretched hand and was pulled carefully to his feet. “Just in case a master thief breaks in and tries to steal my tiny criminal.”

This was too much fun.

Gavin’s face was practically on fire. “Too far. Too tired. I can't handle any of this right now.”

“Liar,” grinned Connor, wrapping his arms around Gavin from behind as they went back inside. His skin might be quivering over his torso, and his thoughts were a little scattered, but he still felt content. He kissed the man’s neck. “You started it and you love it.”

“Fuck off!” laughed Gavin, holding onto the arms around him. Another heavy yawn left his mouth. “This never fucking happened. And yeah, of course you're sleeping with me. Not letting you out of my sight after today. You're a walking fucking disaster, remember?" 

“Gavin?" Connor had a sudden thought.

“What?”

“Should we be concerned that the other detectives were monitoring the cameras inside the club?”

Gizmo darted in front of them, racing up the stairs. 

“You mean, that they watched us making out like teenagers while jealously chasing off the competition?” Gavin paused for a moment, but then waved it off. “It crossed my mind but that sounds like something ‘future us’ should be worried about. Wouldn’t wanna be those assholes…”

Maybe it was being ‘mind-scrambled’, electrocuted and the twenty-four hours without stasis, but somehow that made sense. “Agreed.”

Tomorrow was going to be another busy day.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Past Gavin: Let's make this awkward af  
> Past Connor: We're enjoying this now, where's the harm?
> 
> Future Gavin: Past Gavin is a dick  
> Future Connor: I mean, we saw this coming and did nothing...  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> As usual, you make me warm and fuzzy inside.
> 
> ❤ j.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was Connor’s fault. Yip. All his fault.
> 
> The guy brought out the… he didn’t want to say ‘romantic in him’, but… 
> 
> He wanted to give the android anything he wanted. Even if it was an imaginary fucking gem.
> 
> It made him want to vomit. 
> 
> And shower Connor with kisses as he woke up. 
> 
> And probably vomit some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've been away on holiday!
> 
> So, here is a bit of filler sexy times.
> 
> Also Gavin with feelings.

Chapter 19

Gavin woke with a start. 

Despite the quiet room and the dusky morning light pushing its way past the curtains, his heart was racing, his chest heaving. 

He had no idea what he’d been dreaming about. Falling? An overwhelming darkness?

Definitely one of those. It was always the shitty common types of nightmares that had him waking up in a cold sweat. 

Rolling his eyes, he turned around, settling back against his pillow, tugging the sheet over his-

“Fuck!” he gasped, his heart hammering.

It took a few seconds to take in the sight in front of him, and when he did, a startled laugh escaped him.

_For fuck sake…_

In the groggy moments after waking up, he’d somehow managed to forget Connor was here. 

In his bed.

Gavin shook his head with a grin, rubbing a tired hand down in face.

The android’s LED blinked a soft blue, occasionally spilling into yellow. He looked peaceful like this, eyes closed, completely still.

The exact opposite of Gavin right now.

After waking up alone for fuck knows how many years, having someone else in his bed was strange enough. Having _Connor_ in his bed was a fucking miracle. No wonder his brain had taken so long to catch up to reality. This didn’t seem possible. 

Gavin reached over, tentatively stroking Connor's hair, moving it from his forehead, his fingers grazing his LED. He relaxed a little, studying the android’s features.

It was probably the bad dream, the tiredness, but he couldn’t help wondering how the fuck they had gotten here. If someone had told him this a year ago, six months ago...

Yeah, Connor was an android. An unbelievably hot, ridiculously kind, pain in the ass who had managed to beat down not just him but also every wall Gavin had built, all without fucking blinking. 

And he thought Boyd had taken every ounce of feeling he had left.

He’d been absolutely fucking sure that if he tried to open that particular door again, let someone else in, all he’d be doing was letting in the next Boyd. Just another piece of shit who would bide their time before trying to destroy him from the inside out.

And why did Gavin deserve any better than that? It wasn’t like he was winning any awards for his _niceness_.

He honestly believed being alone was the better option. It had worked for him these past three years.

Then in came the idiot android and his stupid, hilarious pranks and big, warm heart, trying to make everyone feel a little happier for no other reason than because he wanted to… the android who had been through hell and back and still found it in him to forgive Gavin for trying to fucking kill him.

It had been less than a week but _fuck…_

Connor had ignited something in Gavin that he didn’t think he was capable of anymore, the kind of spark that started in the pit of his stomach and burst in his chest. The kind he hadn’t felt since he was a kid having his first crush.

Shit, Connor had fucking kicked the door right open like the superhero robot he was.

He reached over to the bedside table, picking up his phone. The last image he’d taken was still there, opened above everything else. 

He zoomed in on the small blue heart in the robot's arms. 

So fucking smooth...

“Your heartrate is elevated,” came the soft, husky voice next to him. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Oops. Gavin quickly shut off his phone, putting it back where it was. 

“It was nothing. Same old shit. Actually, I kinda forgot you were here,” he admitted with a snicker, shuffling closer to him. “It was a fuckin’ terrible few seconds.”

“I can only imagine,” Connor chuckled, leaning in to give him a slow, warm kiss before wrapping his arms tightly around him and pulling him against his shoulder. “It’s too early. Go back to sleep.”

“Yes, sir,” breathed Gavin, closing his eyes, listening to the almost inaudible hum coming from Connor's chest. 

Did he really deserve any of this? Had he earned being in these arms?

He felt Connor trace the vines of his tattoo and his entire body sank heavily against him. He was asleep almost instantly. 

*

The next time he woke up, it was with a fiery energy that he hadn’t felt in a fucking age, his previous, self-pitying thoughts forgotten. 

He was such a whiner when he was tired…

Connor held him close, his head resting on top of Gavin’s. There was no mistaking his presence this time. 

As carefully as he could, he wriggled out of Connor’s freakishly strong grip, leaning up on his elbow to grab his phone. They’d been asleep for almost a full eight hours. 

That had to be a fucking record for Gavin.

Surprisingly, there was only one message from Tina, sent a few hours before.

tbag: _all quiet so far_

That was probably a good sign. 

He put his phone back and looked down at the android next to him.

His LED was still flashing blue, only this time a little faster. Maybe that meant he was close to waking up too. 

Gavin had to suppress the urge to give him an ‘accidental’ shove, or cough loudly. Connor probably needed a lot more time to rest than he did. He’d been literally _electrocuted_ the day before.

He would need to find another way to entertain himself. 

Hm… What to do…

He should get up, washed, dressed and fed. Maybe even clean.

Or maybe he could lie here and watch the android some more.

A loud meow came from the partially opened door, demanding his attention. The chubby ginger cat whipped his tail hard on the wooden floor.

Yeah, maybe staring at Connor was a bit weird.

“Alright, mister fucking judgy,” he whispered, slowly sliding out of bed, trying not to disturb Connor. “Let’s go.”

Gizmo meowed again, zooming the short distance away. Gavin heard claws skidding across the floor as the cat tried to come to a stop unsuccessfully, clattering ungracefully against the wall next to the stairs before racing down them.

Gavin snickered quietly to himself. That cat was a fucking liability, but he should really get a rug for the hall.

He followed Gizmo downstairs and into the kitchen. The cat danced excitedly around Gavin’s feet while he filled up his water and food bowls. “Will this keep you occupied while I take care of the android?”

Purring, Gizmo rubbed himself on Gavin’s calf until the bowls were put back on the floor. 

“That better be a fucking yes, you little shit.”

He washed his hands, getting himself a glass of water and downing it in one. 

Heading back up the stairs, he leaned against the doorway of his bedroom. Connor hadn't budged, but his LED was now a steady flowing blue. 

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

Not even just attractive, although he definitely was, but knowing how terrifyingly dangerous he was and seeing him looking so soft and innocent… 

It made Gavin want to devour him.

Hm…

Gavin tapped his foot. 

He had far too much energy, a hot as fuck android in his bed, and yet another busy day ahead of them.

What. To. Do.

He smiled wickedly. 

When he’d asked Connor to remove his skin the day before, he had quickly tried to memorise every single line covering his white shell. Those special zones that he reacted to more than anyplace else. 

He wondered how many he remembered…

Carefully sliding back into bed next to him, he lifted Connor's arm, stroking his fingers back and forth with light, feathery touches. Gently kissing his wrist, he followed one of the indentations up to his elbow, before working his way back down again, taking his time, kissing his palm and then each of his fingertips. 

If Gavin had any doubt he was still impossibly touch-starved, it was gone, given how greedily he grabbed any opportunity to have his hands on the android. 

As if, at any moment, someone was going to come and take him away.

Shit, last night someone almost did.

A slight groan from next him made him pause, and Connor’s free hand slid over his arm, squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t stop now, detective. I’m enjoying this.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh, pressing his forehead against Connor’s chest. “Good morning to you too. You don’t mind?”

“If you thought I would mind, you wouldn’t have started,” chuckled Connor, his hand moving to curl into Gavin’s hair. “I’m glad you’ve finally stopped asking permission.”

Fuck, the fingers against his scalp felt good. Undeniably touch-starved.

“Not my fault. You’re just too delicious to resist,” he smirked, pressing his lips tenderly over the android's inner elbow. “Seriously, what is your skin made of, pure sugar?”

“That’s all in your head,” said Connor cheekily. “Now, get over here.”

Gavin let himself be tugged by the hair until his lips met the android’s, kissing him deeply, pressing him into the pillow, running his hands over his chest. He pushed his centre against Connor’s hip, his mind going pleasantly blank. 

His soft skin, the sweet taste… He could do this forever. 

Or so he thought.

Suddenly, Connor gave a sharp intake of breath, and Gavin pulled away.

He was about to ask what was wrong, but that would have been a stupid fucking question. 

Connor was glaring at the angry blue dots on his side, like they'd just insulted him. 

“Ah,” snorted Gavin quietly. “Sorry. Probably shouldn’t be doing this while your healing.”

“I… Yes,” huffed Connor, sounding heartbreakingly glum. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Gavin had to bite his lip to stop himself from chuckling at Connor’s disappointment. “I feel bad for starting this.”

“You should,” he teased accusingly, pinching Gavin’s arm. “But I’ll survive.”

“Lucky you,” grinned Gavin, ducking his head to nibble at Connor’s earlobe, his hand going to stroke Connor’s thigh, sliding it up his jogging shorts. “I don’t think I’ll survive.”

“Get off me,” laughed Connor, shoving him away and getting out of bed with a heavy, but amused sigh. 

“Do you want me to break into Jones’ cell and kick his ass?” asked Gavin, only partially joking. “I’m sure I can make it look like an accident.”

“Tempting, but no. Don’t worry, I’m sure there will be a next time,” Connor winked at him, leaving for the bathroom. 

_Next time?_

It was almost too much to hope for, considering how close they were to closing the case. 

Gavin groaned, trying to... _relax_ himself, or to focus on anything except the smoking hot android...

Coffee. He should get coffee.

He jumped to his feet, shaking off his arousal with a monumental effort, and headed back downstairs, firing up the coffee machine.

Opening the back door, he collected the mugs they’d left on the grass the night before, when… ugh, when he had told his cringe-worthy story. His face burned at the reminder. 

He quickly brought the mugs in and filled the sink with water, distractedly washing them.

It was Connor’s fault. Yip. All his fault.

The guy brought out the… he didn’t want to say ‘romantic in him’, but… 

He wanted to give the android anything he wanted. Even if it was an imaginary fucking gem.

It made him want to vomit. 

And shower Connor with kisses as he woke up. 

And probably vomit some more.

Shit, the android made him soft.

Why couldn’t he have just told Connor how he felt without having to do it so-

Smooth, slender arms slid around his waist, hands stroking his stomach, a bare chest pressed against his back.

“Good morning, detective,” said Connor quietly, kissing Gavin's neck. 

Hm. Maybe being a sappy romantic telling shitty stories wasn’t so bad. Not if he got _this_ in return. 

“Pretty sure we’ve already done this, barbie,” he grinned, drying his hands on the dishtowel. “Thought you were going to get cleaned up?” 

"I got bored." Connor pulled him away from the sink, leading him towards the living room. He turned him around, his lips never leaving Gavin's throat, until he pushed him down on the couch, straddling him.

“Woah, Con! Not that I'm not loving where this is going,” laughed Gavin, his damp hands automatically finding Connor’s hips, “but didn’t we decide this was a bad idea?”

“Changed my mind,” Connor smiled slyly, placing soft kisses against Gavin's bare shoulder, working his way up to his jaw.

And now his arousal was back in full force.

“Your side-" he tried.

“We’re clever, yes?” Connor interrupted, rolling his hips against him. “I’m sure we can find a way.”

Gavin gulped.

Full. Force.

“Are you this excitable every morning?” he asked, resting his head back, letting Connor bite and suck at his neck. 

“You started it,” mumbled Connor, his breath unnaturally hot against his skin. “Besides, this only seems to happen around you.”

“So I’m like catnip for androids?” teased Gavin, running his hands down Connor’s back, revelling in the smoothness. He tucked them into Connor’s shorts, tugging him even closer and squeezing him lightly. Shifting his fingers a little to Connor's centre, Gavin could feel the dampness there already. 

“Not ‘androids’. Just me,” smirked Connor, pulling away from his neck and kissing him fiercely. He clung to Gavin’s shoulders, sliding his tongue into his mouth.

Gavin groaned. Fuck, that sweetness was _addictive._

He didn’t stop. He kept kissing him, holding onto him, grinding against him until Gavin thought he was going to burst with how good Connor felt in his arms.

“You're fucking perfect,” he muttered breathlessly against his lips, moving down to kiss his throat. “Have I told you that?”

“Once, twice, probably more,” Connor beamed, gripping his hair, leaning back a little as Gavin followed a trail down his chest. “Can’t think right now. Feels too good.”

“That’s an understatement,” grinned Gavin, holding the android tightly and turning him over, lying him against the couch.

He continued kissing, nibbling, tasting every part of his chest until Connor was writhing so much, Gavin had to hold his hip to stop him from moving his sore side. “So, how do you want to do this?”

As quick as a flash, Connor sat up, lifting him as easily as a small pile of books, switching their positions.

A burst of laughter left Gavin as he fell back against the couch, staring up in disbelief as Connor settled himself comfortably on his waist. “That’s so fucking hot. You shouldn’t be that strong.”

“Hush, detective,” Connor said quickly, mischievously shifting his hips, leaning his hands on Gavin’s chest. 

Yes…

Those incredible fingers began caressing every muscle, massaging him, working their way down until they came to his waistband. 

Then suddenly, Connor reached between them, cupping him through his soft joggers, moving over him until Gavin was groaning at the heavy touch. 

“I really want to show you some of the gratitude you deserve after last night…”

Gavin’s laughter was strained this time. “Maybe we should find other ways to thank each other. This, um… can’t be normal…”

Connor shrugged, gripping him harder through the clothes. “We can stop if you-”

”No, no,” he stammered, absently grinding against Connor’s hand. He could barely focus. “Fuck, Con. Can we get naked yet?”

The small chuckle in response was amazing. “No touching the sore bits?”

“No touching the sore bits,” repeated Gavin determinedly, his grin wide.

He pushed Connor off of him until, stumbling a little, the stupidly perfect android was on his feet.

Gavin sat up, his knees on either side of him. He clutched Connor's thighs, spinning him around a few times more than necessary, before pulling the giggling android down onto his lap, his back pressed against Gavin’s chest.

“This alright?” he asked, playfully pushing his hips upwards. Connor gasped through his laughter and he followed the movement, rolling back against Gavin. 

“Yes,” Connor said happily, nodding. “This could definitely work.” 

Connor swiftly tugged his own shorts down his legs, before he shifted Gavin’s down only enough to release him. 

Gavin almost choked as Connor took hold of his hardness, then settled back against him until Gavin was swallowed up by his wet heat. “Oh fuck, Connor…”

Biting at the android’s neck, he tried to control his pleasure.

He had to be dreaming... he'd never been been this fucking _happy._

Connor hummed, tilting his head to give him more access. “Less talking, more touching, detective.”

Holy shit, did he say that out loud?

Didn't matter. He needed to hear his title spoken in that staticky voice more often. He'd never be able to hear it again without picturing this exact moment...

Gavin buried his face between Connor’s neck and shoulder, breathing him in. Sliding his hand around Connor’s waist, he took hold of his length. 

The android’s hand followed almost immediately, resting on top of Gavin’s fingers, moving with him. 

“Aren't you _eager_ …” Gavin tried to joke, his voice trembling, like he wasn't just as into this, into everything about him. He stroked Connor gently, sucking at his neck, not caring how many marks he left.

The android breathed deeply, arching his back as Gavin pushed his hips upwards to meet him. 

“Gavin,” Connor groaned.

Gavin could feel Connor trying to move his own hips, to urge him on, but that wasn't going to end well. Gavin didn’t want to hurt him, and he didn't want this to be over too soon. 

Holding his arm firmly across the android’s shoulders, he forced him to be steady.

“Take it easy, Con,” he whispered, smiling deviously. “There’s no rush.”

But even as he said it, Connor managed to curl himself backwards, pushing Gavin even deeper, and a low guttural moan left Gavin’s throat involuntarily. 

Fuck, the android had no business feeling this incredible to be inside of. 

”I'll take it easy,” agreed Connor unsteadily, gripping his arm tightly, as Gavin started moving his hips again. “But… if you wouldn’t mind…” 

The skin over his neck faded away.

Fuck yes.

Gavin took the hint, greedily plunging his tongue in one of the deepest dents running from his spine up to his hairline. 

Connor moaned loudly, his systems vibrating against Gavin’s entire body. 

He wanted to squeeze him between his thighs, to turn him around and look into those dark eyes, kiss those amazing lips, but he couldn’t do that without the risk of hurting him.

Instead, he grazed his teeth against the central indentation in Connor’s neck, moving his hand a little quicker over him, increasing the pressure.

The android drew in a shaky breath, reaching up to grasp at Gavin’s hair, his other hand finding his hip, those short, blunt fingernails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Connor,” Gavin murmured, enjoying the tightness on his scalp, the impossible warmth of Connor's body as he pushed back inside him with a hoarse groan. “So fucking perfect.”

Connor’s LED flickered yellow for a split second, then brightened blue at the praise, so close to Gavin’s eyes, he couldn’t fail to miss it. “I’m barely even moving…”

“You don’t need to do a fucking thing.” 

The short laughter that came from Connor quickly spilled into a lustful sigh. 

Fuck, he wished he could record that sound. He'd make it his fucking ringtone. 

His hand stroked fervently, his hips rolling into him, until he could feel that familiar heat building inside.

“Yesssss…” Connor’s voice stuttered, not sounding even remotely like his own anymore. 

His body quivered against Gavin's chest and thighs. Gavin had to hold him closer, wary of his injury, as he kept pushing inside, over and over and over again.

“Shit, Con…” Gavin’s hips were starting to lose control, jutting upwards with a mind of their own.

The grip in Gavin’s hair intensified, those slender fingers digging harder into his hip, dragging upwards, breaking the skin. “Gavin, I-!”

The light on Connor’s head flooded his vision.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his focus stolen by the overwhelming tightness created by Connor’s orgasm, the warm liquid spilling over his hand.

Growling, Gavin bit into Connor’s neck, sucking at the spot, his arm crushing the android into his chest, until only seconds later, he joined him, his release hitting him hard.

Holy fucking shit. He would never get tired of this. He could hear his pulse beating inside of his fucking head.

He rested his forehead against Connor’s shoulder, his breathing unsteady. 

After about a minute of coming back down, he finally trusted himself to speak. “You good?”

Connor nodded enthusiastically, rubbing the side of his head against him. “I'm… _very_ good.”

“I could do that all day,” Gavin breathed happily, loosening his grip. He wiped his hand on his leg. He would go for a shower soon anyway. “I’m glad you changed your mind. Or, you convinced me… whatever. Did you convince me? Fuck, you can actually control minds, can’t you? I don’t even remember agreeing to this.”

He was _actually_ delirious. 

Connor relaxed against him, patting his arm, like he was giving him a ‘job well done’. “Shh. Don’t think too much about it. I’m a very good negotiator and you… well...”

Gavin glanced up at him incredulously. His LED was still glowing warmly but it had dimmed enough to see him properly.

“You actually played me,” he chuckled, kissing the android’s cheek. “Shit, you really think I’m easy.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” said Connor, and Gavin would have believed he was serious until he saw the twitch in his lip. 

What a little shit.

Gavin quickly nipped his shoulder, hugging him into his chest. “Can’t wait until you show up at Hank’s with all these hickeys. That’ll be a fun conversation.”

Connor looked back at him with a smug smile. “Do you really think it will take him any longer than two seconds to figure out who put them there?”

Huh. He leaned up, eyeing the damage. Shit. “Yeah, we’re getting you a fucking scarf.”

“Sure, that won’t be obvious in the middle of June,” muttered Connor sarcastically. "He might not know I can feel temperature, but I'm certain he'd find that suspicious." 

“How about a stylish cravat?" he offered instead. "You could pull it off. My life is at stake.” 

"How do you know what a cravat is?" Connor laughed, shifting off of his lap and Gavin couldn’t help hissing with sensitivity as he came out of him. Turning himself around, Connor straddled him once more, staring at him with those sweet brown eyes. “So, can we do this all day?”

The idiot android had no idea what he fucking did to him.

Gavin cupped that beautiful face, capturing his lips, sliding his tongue inside his mouth, and Connor met him just as keenly. 

A loud ringing came from up the stairs and the two reluctantly broke apart. 

“Come the fuck on,” complained Gavin, throwing his head back against the couch. “Why won’t they leave us alone?”

“It could be worse,” smiled Connor, sliding away from him. “They could have called twenty minutes ago. Call them back. I definitely need to get cleaned up now. Although it will be a shame to see this go…”

He let the skin over his stomach disappear, tapping his fingers over the stick figure drawing.

Gavin felt the heat rise from his neck to the tips of his ears as he slid his shorts up his legs. “You’re fucking evil.”

“And yet, you're crazy about me,” he grinned, turning around and heading for the bathroom. 

Yes, he was.

Smooth, fucking android.

*

Connor cleaned up quickly, trying to avoid his stomach. He wanted to keep as much of the drawing as possible.

Even with all of their… activities, the majority of it had managed to stay intact.

It was silly, but he quite liked having it there while the stun gun marks were still visible. It made him feel better about the whole situation. Something good and surprising coming out of something dark and horrible. 

Rubbing the towel over his hair, he picked up his joggers and wandered through to the kitchen, throwing them and the towel into the machine.

He headed back upstairs, hearing raised voices. He slowed his steps, peaking in through the bedroom door.

“Shit's really hitting the fan here, Gav,” said Tina, her voice tinny over the loudspeaker, sounding worried. That wasn't like her. “They've brought in the dad and the kid too. The kid isn't talking. As in, he hasn't said a single word since he arrived.”

“Shit,” said Gavin, running his fingers through his hair.

“Right? Then we’ve got Dillon who won't stop talking, but the only thing he's saying is that he'll only give the name of the supplier to Connor. Steve dick-for-brains Boyd called Fowler, since they're getting nothing else out of him.”

“That skinny little fuckwit hit Connor with upwards of forty thousand volts last night. He's not getting in the room with him.”

“That’s kind of a moot point now. I’m calling from our precinct. Fowler had him shipped here an hour ago.”

“I told you, Chen. It’s not fucking happening.”

“I love that you think I have any power here, but maybe try telling that to Fowler? Tell me when you’re gonna though, I want a front row seat to that fucking screaming match.”

Connor pushed open the door, staring at him, frowning. 

Gavin covered the mouthpiece, running his eyes over his naked body before shaking his head. “Dillon’s refusing to talk to anybody but you. I'm trying to explain why that isn't fucking happening.”

“Explaining to the wrong person!” shouted Tina down the phone.

“Then carry the message to the right one!” he yelled back.

“Don’t you dare take that fucking tone with me, Gavin Reed! I’ll come over there and smack you, I don’t give a shit if your not-so-secret crush is watching!”

_//Backup audio saved**_

Connor chuckled, covering his mouth with one hand and resting the other on his hip.

Gavin’s eyes flashed to him. “Oh, don’t you fuckin’ start…”

“She’s right!” said Connor, moving his hand away and revealing his grin. “Gavin, he took me by surprise last night, he’s not going to get that opportunity again. It’s an interrogation, that is literally part of my original programming. Of course, I’m going to do it.”

He left the doorway to move around the bed, sliding on a spare pare of clean joggers.

“I don’t give a shit if your original programming was sucking the truth out of his fucking nostril!” ranted Gavin, his eyes following him. “He’s not going to tell you anything anyway, so what’s the fucking point?”

“Sucking the truth out of his nostril…” repeated Connor slowly, staring at him in disbelief.

”Well, I’m fucking sorry!” Gavin raised his hands exasperatedly. “You might be a good negotiator, but the guy is a fucking psycho! He’s just trying to waste our time!”

Connor rolled his eyes. Even if he did see Gavin’s point, he was overreacting just a bit. This was the job, after all.

“For fuck sake, mother hen!” they heard Tina shout. Their attention shot to the phone. “If you’re _that_ concerned, just go in with him! How are you even a detective? The room is big enough for more than two people!”

Connor shrugged. “If we go in together, will that calm you down?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them.

Gavin’s brow furrowed deeply, and he stared at him with a surprising amount of loathing and… worry? He dropped the phone onto the bed, moving right into his space. 

“ _Calm me down?_ You didn’t see what I saw!” he growled agitatedly, one hand gripping his own hair, the other going to Connor’s shoulder. “He was sitting in your fucking lap. Right against you. He wanted to fucking…”

Gavin shook his head.

Shit. Connor suddenly understood his concern.

“He can’t touch me while he's handcuffed to the table,” he said, carefully. “He won’t be able to-“

But Gavin shoved past him, leaving the room before he could finish, slamming the door on his way out.

“Let me guess,” drawled Tina, from the phone on the bed. “He stormed out of the room?”

“He did,” Connor said, trying not to let his disappoint be heard. 

“What a drama queen. Still, I don’t really blame him,” she said awkwardly. “Sounds like it was a rough night.”

“It was,” he answered distractedly, staring at the door. “We’ll be there soon.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: What.  
> Gavin: WHAT.  
> Gavin: WHAT!  
> Tina, arms folded, shaking her head: You fucking drama queen.
> 
> I'm sure he'll get over it.
> 
> Prepare for an interrogation, the shitty vice detectives on Gav and Con's home turf, and we're are about to go head first into the final chapters...
> 
>  
> 
> Let's do this.
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want me to hold your jacket while you start a brawl?” Connor joked, pinching the man’s hip from behind him.
> 
> “Oh, would you be a sweetheart and do that for me?” he openly mocked in a voice a few pitches higher than his own, tutting. “How generous.”
> 
> “Absolutely, _honey_ ,” retorted Connor, just as sarcastically. “Would you like me to make you a nice beverage when you're finished too? I've heard behaving like a caveman is exhausting.”
> 
> At long last, the tension in Gavin finally seemed to break. He looked at Connor with that incredible cheeky grin. “That would be nice actually. You never did make me that coffee I asked you for six months ago...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter I had to split in two! 
> 
> Gavin's mad, Connor's sensible, Hank's smart, Fowler is done with all the shit.
> 
> The usual.
> 
> **Warning for a racist slur and general unpleasantness**

Chapter 20

“Gavin?”

“I don’t want to hear it, dipshit. Not in the mood.”

“Gavin…”

“Am I speaking to a fucking brick wall?”

“I’m the one trying to talk!”

“Still don’t want to hear it.”

“For fuck sake...”

The man was utterly infuriating.

It didn’t matter what he said or did, Connor was being completely ignored. He even tried undoing one of his shirt buttons, overly suggestively, hoping to lighten the mood, maybe even make him crack a smile, but all Gavin did was narrow his eyes at him.

Apparently, he wasn’t that easy…

He thought that Gavin’s temper might have cooled on the drive to the precinct but so far, no.

Of course not.

That would have been too simple.

“I really hope you are the most difficult person I have to deal with today,” huffed Connor, folding his arms, “because you are setting the bar very high.”

Gavin made an angry noise deep in his throat, taking another corner a bit too sharp. The tires skidded under the car.

“And I would really like to get to the precinct alive! I didn't break through my code and survive a revolution just to be killed because you're pouting,” he scolded him, pointlessly. 

Like anything he said was going to make a blind bit of difference.

“You know what?” Gavin slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “It's bad enough that we’re about to walk into our own precinct with those fucking vice _pricks_ acting like they own the place. That Sam is being hauled in for questioning by police on a fucking school day. That we _still_ don’t have a fucking clue if his uncle is involved in all this. That Steve _fucking_ Boyd is probably going to have his hands all over my desk, talking to the fucking officers about fuck knows what...”

Connor opened up his mouth to speak but Gavin ranted on.

“No. _No._ That's not enough. To make it ten times fucking worse, you have to go and say ‘yeah, I don’t give a shit that a drug dealer fried my circuits a thousand times and gave off the _rapiest_ vibe I’ve ever felt from a suspect who wasn’t actually being arrested for rape, let’s just sit in a room and have a fucking chat with him. That seems like a good fucking idea!’ You’re supposed to be smart, but this decision makes you a _fucking idiot_!”

Connor’s eyebrows were practically at his hairline.

Well… that was an outburst he wasn’t expecting.

The man obviously needed to get that off of his chest, although he was certain all the swearwords weren’t necessary…

Connor slipped his pebble out of his pocket, only managing to twirl it through his fingers a few times before Gavin reached over, tugged it out of his hand and threw it out of the open window.

“Gavin!” 

_//Begin preconstruction-*END_

The man groaned frustratedly, then swerved the car to the side of the road, slamming on the breaks. He flung the door open, jumping out, cursing some more as he went.

This had to be the worst tantrum Connor had ever seen in a grown man. 

It was just an interrogation. Connor had done dozens of them. He understood Gavin's apprehension and knew it was coming from a good place, but there was no need for all this.

A few seconds later, Gavin slumped back down in the driver's seat and, without looking at him, tossed him the flat purple pebble. 

Connor caught it mid-air.

“Sorry.” It was a mumbled apology, but at least he sounded sincere. “I didn’t mean to… just… _fuck_. Sorry.”

Connor ignored him, breathing an involuntary sigh of relief, running the pebble through his fingers. 

He didn’t _need_ it. Not really. He simply preferred using it as an outward means of calibrating. Focusing. Prioritising. 

It was the only thing he’d enjoyed using after misplacing his coin at Hank’s (although he was half-convinced that Hank had stolen it as revenge for one of his many ‘mind tricks’).

Flicking the pebble expertly between his hands, his mind began to steady itself. “Is there anything else you would like to add or are you done?”

“I think I’ve said enough,” he muttered quietly, eyeing him before starting the car and continuing. “Show-off.”

“Good, then it's my turn,” Connor said firmly. “First of all, you need to work on mocking me, detective. You sound nothing like me. It’s as if you’re not even trying.”

Gavin snorted, shaking his head.

“Secondly,” he continued with a small shrug. “I’m flattered.”

Gavin’s eyes flickered to him, a frown on his face. “You wanna try that again?”

_//Honesty_

The man might be an overreacting ‘drama queen’, as Tina had said, but...

Connor took a deep breath. “Your fierce protectiveness of the people you care about is one of your most admirable qualities. I enjoy seeing it… apply to me. It’s nice. I’m sorry if that seems strange or selfish, but I like it.”

Gavin fell silent, staring intensely at the road, as if he was trying to decide how angry he needed to remain.

It was interesting to watch.

“Yeah, it _applies_ to you, dipshit,” he said finally, his voice quiet, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that? You really think I’d get this pissed off if you were anybody else? I fucking lo-”

The detective bit down hard on his lip, his cheeks reddening.

“Finish that sentence,” grinned Connor, his thirium pump spinning a little faster. “Go on.”

“Fucking make me.”

“Not while you’re driving,” chuckled Connor, reaching over to stroke his arm over-affectionately. “That would be irresponsible.”

“Just shut up,” he said petulantly, shrugging him off. “I can't believe you’re sitting there getting happier the angrier I get. Fucking weirdo. I’m still not talking to you.”

“Whatever you say.”

Gavin tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I _am_ sorry I threw your stone out of the car,” he muttered sheepishly. “That was a dick move.”

“You’re forgiven, Gavin,” he smiled, flicking it in the air.

*

“You know what else I'm mad at, other than you?”

Connor rolled his eyes, muttering, “No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me...”

“That there are three people gathered around my fucking desk while I'm not there. I'm about to lose it, Con.”

They had barely made it past the entrance of the precinct, but Gavin was right. The officers were having a relaxed chat, cups in their hands, one standing, another sitting in Gavin’s chair and the last actually sitting on his desk.

“Do you want me to hold your jacket while you start a brawl?” Connor joked, pinching the man’s hip from behind him.

“Oh, would you be a sweetheart and do that for me?” he openly mocked in a voice a few pitches higher than his own, tutting. “How generous.”

“Absolutely, _honey_ ,” retorted Connor, just as sarcastically. “Would you like me to make you a nice beverage when you've finished too? I've heard behaving like a caveman is exhausting.”

At long last, the tension in Gavin finally seemed to break. He looked at Connor with that incredible cheeky grin. “That would be nice actually. You never did make me that coffee I asked you for six months ago...”

Connor gaped. “Are you being serious? You hit me for it!”

“Pfft, you forgave me,” Gavin waved him off. “ _‘I only take orders from Lieutenant Anderson.’_ Such a teacher’s pet.” He reached up to briefly touch his fingers to Connor’s LED.

It was an oddly affectionate motion, one the detective was making a habit.

Connor liked it. 

Since everyone around them were distractedly going about their day, Connor took a chance, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “How about I make you the six-month late coffee and to thank me, instead of punching me in the chest like an idiot… maybe you can use your lips there instead? If it will keep you quiet…”

Gavin’s eyes widened, a stunned look coming across his reddening face. “Opening up the door for flirting at work? That's a dangerous move. You won’t stand a chance against me.”

An officer walked past them, clearing his throat, nodding his head in an uncomfortable greeting. They waited patiently until he was back out of earshot.

“Are you trying to turn _flirting_ into a competition?” Connor finally spoke, staring at him incredulously. “I take it back. You don’t deserve the coffee.”

“You started it. Competition’s on, barbie,” Gavin said resolutely, turning into him and sneaking his fingers through the buttons of Connor's shirt, right over his thirium pump. “This should be fun-”

“Reed! Connor! What the hell are you two doing?” bellowed Fowler from his office door. “Do you think I've got all goddamn day?”

Gavin dropped his hand, taking a small step back, his hungry eyes never leaving him. “Competitive flirting…” he chuckled. “You owe me a coffee. I'll add that to the list, under _a dance_.”

“A coffee _and_ a dance? Don't push your luck, detective.” Connor gave him a shove towards Fowler’s office. “Let's go.”

The detective snickered, winking at him, before his face fell into its usual angry scowl.

“Oi! Scatter!” he barked suddenly at the officers hanging around his desk. Their heads shot up like three startled meerkats, surprise turning into recognition and fear, and they quickly darted off. “Fucking rodents.”

Connor shook his head as they walked past the desk and ascended the stairs to the glass box of the captain’s office.

He knew there was no malice in Gavin's words but it was still funny to see the reactions of the younger officers.

“Connor, stop daydreaming and sit down.”

Connor brought his attention to the room.

“Hank?”

The lieutenant was sitting back in a chair opposite of Fowler’s desk, wearing an outrageously loud green shirt. His beard was neatly trimmed but his messy hair was, well, messy.

Would it kill him to put a comb through it?

Still, it was great to see him, until Gavin caught his eye, and the detective’s attention drifted to his neck…

Shit.

The ridiculous blue hickeys.

Connor attempted to adjust his collar inconspicuously, trying to avoid looking at Gavin’s amused face. The infuriating human was right. He should have brought a scarf...

“Good to see you, Con. Heard you got into some trouble last night,” he started carefully, studying him with a small smile, obviously trying to gauge the extent of any damage. “How you doing?”

Oh, the injury! 

If Hank spotted the marks at his throat, he would assume they had come from the attack. 

At least, Connor really hoped he would. That wasn’t a conversation he was ready to have. Not here. In the Captain’s office. With glass walls. Surrounded by officers.

Of course, Hank didn't know about his new bio-nerves. He didn’t know about the pain receptors firing in his brain whenever he accidentally grazed the stun gun marks, and this definitely wasn’t the right time to be breaking that news either. 

They were on their way to healing anyway. Hour by hour, they were correcting themselves. If only Gavin would stop adding new marks to his neck, the hickeys would have cleared up by now too.

Gavin gave a quiet cough behind him, and Connor realised he hadn’t actually answered Hank’s question.

“I'm fine, Hank,” he said quickly, giving him a matching warm smile. “Still in one piece. It's good to see you too. How are the new recruits?”

“Nightmarish.” He shrugged, his sharp, intelligent eyes never leaving him. “Trying to offload them, but apparently that's not happening any time soon. Been a hell of a long week.” 

Connor looked at him in surprise. “Hank, you know better than that. They’ll learn from you. Some of them may work here in the future so you should take advantage, make sure they know how to do things the right way and not fall into bad habits.”

Hank never gave himself enough credit. He had been an amazing teacher to Connor, not just with the job, but with learning to work through his emotions too. The man might believe he was void of all patience, but the truth was the opposite. He was the embodiment of it.

“It's a struggle just teaching them how to stay alive,” he grumbled. “But that’s not important. It's nice to see you're as unbreakable as ever. Reed too. Can't be that bad if you haven't had to break his legs yet.”

“Whoa!” Gavin threw him a worried glance from his hovering spot, near the back of the room. “Was that a thing?”

“It definitely wasn't one of _my_ things,” assured Connor, firing a cautious stare at Hank. “The _lieutenant_ is teasing.” He turned his attention to Gavin. “Besides, that would be far too obvious, detective. If I had an issue, you know I would be more subtle.”

Like the five-minute hot water limit that he outright refused to fix. Better for the planet anyway. 

“Yeah, I s’pose,” the detective snorted, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.

“Right, that's enough from all of you,” hushed Fowler. “This isn’t a bar. This is a precinct, and I have a perp who I want out of here. Hank, this has been a good catch up, and nice try but the answer is no. This shit needs to be wrapped up tight, and the rookies are yours until the three months is up.”

“Fantastic, Jeff,” Hank said with a wry smile, slapping his knees as he stood. “Dealing with rookies is supposed to be your job. You know how many times I've caught one of them twirling their gun like a fucking cowboy? You'd think I'd only have to tell them once but apparently someone is gonna have to die before they actually learn.”

Connor shook his head at his weak complaints. He was ninety nine percent sure that Hank didn't mind the role half as much as he said he did. 

In fact, the man looked good. Energetic and healthier than ever. It set Connor's mind at ease.

_//Hank is taking care of himself_

“Get out, Hank,” huffed Fowler, fondly. “And just be thankful you don't have to deal with these two morons. They’d give your cowboys a run for their money.”

Connor immediately raised his eyebrows, only noticing at the last minute, Gavin was doing the same thing. Hank simply laughed.

“You’re right about that, Jeff,” Hank agreed, moving around the chair. He patted Connor's shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze before he left. “Don’t do anything stupid, Con. Think I might watch your interrogation, while I’m here. Make sure _you_ haven’t picked up any bad habits.”

Why was Hank always warning him not to do anything stupid? It was like the lieutenant’s mantra…

“Now,” Fowler spoke, when the door clicked closed. He took a deep breath. “This is what's going to happen. Connor, you’re going to do the interrogation. But I want to know if you’re prepared.”

“I'm going in with him,” Gavin said, folding his arms across his chest, moving forward to take the seat Hank had left vacant. “Dillon Jones is a violent drug dealer and he’s asked for Connor personally. After last night, I'm not just going to stand by and-"

“Yes, Reed,” interrupted Fowler, tiredly. “I get it. It’s fucking weird to hear you _say_ it but it makes sense. Robophobia be fuckin’ damned, huh?”

Gavin sat back in the chair, shrugging. “It was a fucked-up night.”

“Caleb gave me some details of what happened,” the captain nodded. “That’s why I’m asking. Are you up for this, Connor? You look fine, but you’re not about to walk into something you’re not ready for.”

“I’m ready,” he replied, determinedly. “I'm sure Caleb made it sound worse-"

“Did he fuck make it ‘sound worse’-!” Gavin started.

“Shut it, both of you!” Fowler shouted, rubbing his eyes with one hand and slamming his other down on the table. “Goddamnit, you've come this far already and the week's not done. Apparently, our little incentive is having an effect and I’m not about to come in the way of that.”

“That's not-"

“We don't-"

Connor caught Gavin's eye. 

After everything that had happened, after _all_ of this, the incentive was the last thing on their minds.

Fowler stared between them. “I’ve had Dillon Jones moved to interrogation. He's been waiting for twenty minutes. Go.”

“What about his dad?” asked Gavin, dragging an impatient hand through his hair. “And... Sam? Dillon's cousin.”

Fowler's attention flew to him. “His cousin's prints were all over the drugs and the bag we have in evidence.”

Shit. Of course. 

“Don't get me wrong, Reed,” continued Fowler, his tone turning sympathetic. “The kid is ten. I doubt he had any malicious intent, but he is involved and so far, he hasn't said a word.”

“Why the fuck would he?” Gavin snapped, standing up and kicking the chair to the side, pacing furiously. “He's obviously being coerced by Dillon, and we don't even know how involved his uncle is!”

“Gavin's right,” said Connor. “We don't know his involvement. We can't put Sam in that position. The child is smart. If he isn’t talking, it’s for a reason. If we keep pressing him to talk and his uncle is involved, we may be putting him in more danger.”

“Which is why we're not pushing the kid!” Fowler took a deep breath. “At least, not right now. This is a bad situation, I see that. But we have nothing on Alexander Jones. Not a fingerprint, not a loose fucking strand of hair.”

“That doesn’t mean a fucking thing," Gavin argued, rounding on Fowler's desk.

“I’m aware of that, Reed! Now settle down!” shouted Fowler, to Gavin’s surprise. “We can't assume anything at this point, which is why you are both going to see this through to the end. Now go. Dillon is waiting and I want that asshole out of my precinct and into a prison cell as soon as possible.”

That couldn't be too difficult. 

_//Target: Dillon Jones_

_//Setting new objective: Name of supplier_

And in his vision, the last entry popped up automatically as it often had these past few days.

_//Priority: Samuel Garcia_

*

Gavin loved the noise of the precinct. The cops chatting, radios going, terminals beeping for all sorts of reasons. It was soothing. 

This was his white noise.

“That was quick,” Tina's voice called from her usual perch on Gavin's desk. Finally, someone he didn't mind being there. “And you look like you're in one piece. I take it you didn't do your usual and lose your temper?”

Why was everyone expecting him to either snap or lose body parts?

“Temper is intact, bitch,” retorted Gavin, flipping her off. 

“That's a shame. I was looking forward to a bloodbath,” she teased lightly, rubbing her eyes. She looked exhausted. “But now that you're here, I'm leaving. I’ve been here since five in the morning and I don't have your energy.”

“You're a hero, Chen,” he said, with only a hint of sarcasm. As much as he wanted to annoy her, she did them a huge favour. “Any updates?” 

“Yeah,” she said, turning serious. “Samuel Garcia, the one with the bruise on his face and his fingerprints all over the evidence. He’s obviously a good kid but Boyd couldn’t make him talk. Simmons and Caleb tried too. They sent me in, thought a female face might soften him up, but nothing. He gave me that look though.”

 _That look_. Gavin didn’t need to ask what that meant. 

He spotted Connor glancing curiously at them. 

“He wanted to say something, but couldn’t,” Gavin explained, looking at Tina to make sure he was picking her up right. She nodded. “Kids have a tell. There's a look they give when they know more than they are saying. Maybe they’re scared or think they’ll get into trouble for talking.”

Connor frowned. “I didn’t know that.”

“It's not like it’s written down anywhere but you’d recognise it if you saw it, Con,” said Gavin, with certainty. “Kids are fucking easy to understand. Everything is written on their faces. If you know when I’m lying, you’ll know when a kid is.”

“Because it’s the same thing,” muttered Tina, giving another massive yawn. “Kids aren’t easy to understand for everyone. Just for the people who never grew up.”

“Fuck you too, Chen,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes. “Nobody needs to see the inside of your throat.”

“Whatever. I was on a late last night, had about two hours sleep before you called,” she mumbled, hopping off the desk, and lifting her jacket. “Anyway, the uncle took the kid for some food. McCready went with them. They should be back soon. Really wish I had more to tell you.”

“It's appreciated, Tina,” said Connor, gratefully. “We owe you. Thank you.”

Con... Fucking great. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“You're welcome, _Connor_.” She smiled sweetly at him, then gave Gavin a death glare. “Did you hear how easily he said ‘thank you’? Why is it such a struggle for you?”

“I’m showing my gratitude by letting you go home,” he smirked, pointing to the door. “You know, to your warm bed, your wife, and the rest of the day to yourselves? Wait until I cry a fucking tear for you.”

Tina gave him a tired look, nodding her head towards Connor. “I’m sure you won’t cry too hard, lover-boy.”

What the fuck! “Chen!”

“Gavin,” laughed Connor, grabbing the back of his jacket, stopping him from chasing her through the precinct. “Dillon’s waiting.”

He watched Tina leave, scowling, and she turned back long enough to point her forefinger at him and give him a wink. “Make sure to upset some more neighbours, you scoundrels!”

What a bitch. “I hate her.”

“You remember that I know when you’re lying?”

“Yeah, I hate you too.”

*

Gavin made sure to walk in first, slamming his hand on the scanner before Connor could.

It was stupid and petty, and he knew Connor was more than capable of taking on Dillon and ten more like him all at once, but he didn't trust those vice assholes to tie their fucking shoelaces, let alone properly secure a suspect.

This had always been his least favourite room in the whole precinct. The grey walls were cold and uninviting, the long two-way mirror reflecting the scene back at them made it very clear they were being watched. The person sitting in the chair would either be proud, terrified, or just… broken.

Even though the room hadn’t changed since he'd interrogated his last suspect, being here with Connor reminded him of six months before, when he’d held the gun currently in his holster to the android’s head. 

What did Chris say to him on the phone a few nights ago? _‘You were so riled up, you were ready to shoot him…’_

Things had definitely changed. 

He was so fucking angry back then. Looking at Connor like he was going to replace them all. Not realising that, at the time, the android had his own demons plaguing his mind.

But he couldn’t focus on that.

Because the person currently occupying the chair was Dillon Jones, the one who was using Sam as a portable stash, who electrocuted Connor. 

The man was handcuffed to the table, in the same awful get-up as the night before, looking unintelligibly self-satisfied until he spotted Gavin. 

“Oh,” Dillon said disappointedly. “It brought you. I thought it would just be the two of us.”

“No such luck, Dillon,” smirked Gavin. “I told you last night, you want him then you’ll have to take me too. But don't worry. I'm just here to observe.”

He wandered to the back of the room, trying his best to control the way his skin crawled when the creep finally locked eyes with Connor.

“Feels a little crowded in here, doesn't it?” he said, shifting forward in his chair, stargazed.

“As you can imagine, Dillon,” began Connor, his voice calm, a small, comforting smile on his face, “Detective Reed feels a little apprehensive about leaving you alone with me.”

Hm. That was carefully worded.

“It’s jealousy.” Dillon shrugged, leaning back in his chair, shaking the chains securing him to the desk in mild frustration. “He feels threatened by me. He knows I'd look after you so much better than he ever could.”

Standing quietly might have been a mistake to offer. He wanted to throttle the creep. Wanted to tell him he’d watched Connor drop a man twice his size and stop for a chat only yesterday, but he wouldn’t. He respected Connor’s lead. 

He should take a deep breath and let him do his work. Right.

Fuck, this might kill him.

“His jealously aside, how about you tell me where you've been getting the drugs from?” questioned Connor, keeping his head far better than Gavin. “They seem specific to the club you've been selling at.”

“That was my idea,” beamed Dillon, pointing his chin upwards. “The bags with the hourglass? That was the symbol of my mom's club after all. The club those corporate assholes stole from her...”

“It must have been very difficult for you, after she passed,” said Connor, his tone turning sympathetic. He sat down in the chair opposite Dillon, placing the manila file to the side, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. 

“Not really,” he shrugged again. “I missed the place. It was nice to go back and repay them for taking it away from us. It will be good publicity for the club, don't you think?”

Wow. Did this kid even give a shit that his mom was dead?

Maybe they were right. Maybe he was a fucking psychopath.

“I understand your motivations,” Connor said, nodding. “They needed to be punished for what they did. Buying the club so quickly, while you were still grieving-"

Dillon slammed his hands down on the table, and Gavin automatically reached for his gun.

“Not just them!” he hissed, his face all of a sudden twisted in anger, like a switch had been flipped. “The _little angels_ too. That’s what my mom used to call them. Like they were her own kids. But they still went to the club night after night, not giving a damn that she was dead. That she was the only person who had kept the place running for so long!”

He thumped the table again. “Just dancing and drinking, taking drugs from a complete stranger... it wasn't even difficult, you know? Just say the right thing to the right person and suddenly I had a whole flock who couldn't wait to lose their minds for the night.”

“But it wasn't just for the night, was it, Dillon?” pushed Connor. “We have a young person, a child on the streets, who has been taking the same strain of red ice you've been selling for far longer than one night.”

“Yeah,” snickered Dillon, playing with his handcuffs. “The _kids_...”

Connor’s eyes flashed to Gavin, his LED spinning red before going back to yellow. 

They only knew about one kid for definite who was using that strain, and they had accidentally stumbled onto her. Dillon made it sound like there were several more they didn't know about.

“Yes, the kids,” Connor said, choosing his words carefully, as if he knew what the fuck Dillon was talking about. “That seems personal too.”

“Personal?” asked Dillon quietly, without looking up. He was taking great interest in the red rings the handcuffs were leaving on his wrists. “Maybe it was. It was fun to see the small idiots who thought they were so much smarter than me, being brought down by a little bit of powder.”

Gavin was staring at Connor, but the android watched Dillon without saying a word. What the fuck was the guy talking about?

“You know,” Dillon smiled, “my mom always said I would be a good student if I put my mind to it, but I never could pay attention. It was just so dull. I never saw the point…” He laughed softly. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I think that whole school might have an attention problem now. I hope the teachers are having fun dealing with them. Serves them right.”

A school…

A fucking school. The kid that Connor’s perp had held up in the alley last week… she got hooked on drugs at her fucking school?

Dillon was twenty-two years old. He might be young, but he was still a grown man. What the fuck was he doing selling at his old school?

“Why would you want to sell drugs to children, Dillon?” asked Connor, his voice as steady as his spinning yellow LED.

“Because they made me do it,” said Dillon bitterly, before looking at Connor with a dazed smile. “Those ‘children’ are no better than the ones I find at Sand. You wouldn’t know…” he huffed out a disappointed laugh. “You never had to go to school. You were built already being smart. In fact, you’re just like them. You’ve never had to try to be good at anything, have you? Just ready-made perfection.”

Fuck, the guy was sounding crazed, like he was stuck between hating Connor and wanting to put him on a fucking pedestal.

“So, you were bullied at school?” Gavin joined in. “Boo-fucking-hoo. Most kids are, and most of them learn how to move the fuck on when they graduate. They don’t go to the school gates in their twenties passing out red ice like it’s fucking candy.”

“Does he really have to be here?” Dillon asked, his dismissive tone making Gavin’s teeth clench. 

“Selling at your mom’s old club and at your old school,” said Connor, shaking his head. “I have to ask, Dillon. Why would you do that? It’s almost as if you were trying to get caught. You must have known this would all come back to you eventually.”

“I don’t care about that,” shrugged Dillon, going back to running his fingers over the handcuffs. “I just wanted to fill those places up with as much red ice as I could. Let the teachers and the club’s new owners deal with the mayhem. Turn my mom’s precious _little angels_ into the monsters they really are.”

Gavin couldn’t believe it.

That was it? He was selling drugs not for the cash, not for the status, but because he was jealous of all the attention his mommy gave the other kids instead of him growing up?

“And where does Sam fit in," Connor continued. "It seems strange to use such a young member of your family for something like-”

“That half-breed runt is _not_ my family!” Dillon snapped, abruptly pushing himself up.

“Sit your ass down!” growled Gavin, shoving the man back into the chair. “And watch your fucking mouth!”

Dillon jerked his shoulders out from Gavin’s grip, slamming his fists on the table. The handcuffs clattered loudly. “I lost my family the day he moved into my house. Into _my_ bedroom. He’s the reason my mom is dead. And I have to live with him! He has no business being allowed to walk around while she rots in the ground.”

“Sam is ten-years-old, Dillon,” Connor said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you really blame him because a passing android saw the accident and rescued him before he could rescue the others?”

Dillon fell back in his seat like a deflated balloon, the energy that had come over him gone.

“You stupid little androids and your simple minds,” he muttered, his eyes vacant. “Just clockwork, tick, tick, tick. No humanity. No soul.”

Like this fucking prick had anything remotely resembling a soul.

“After that, I took my mom’s advice. I ‘put my mind to it’, and started learning about _you_. I didn’t understand it at first. The jargon was stupidly complicated, probably on purpose so people think it’s harder than it actually is.”

Gavin didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Dillon was clearly getting a kick out of this but as long as the creep kept talking, Gavin didn’t give a shit. He was digging his own grave.

“I began watching the vids, old ones from before the revolution. People would take androids apart and show you how to fix the broken bits inside. They always said things like ‘don’t try this at home’ or ‘consult a professional’, but why else would they have those videos there if they didn't want you to have a go?” 

“Because it’s very dangerous, Dillon,” said Connor, his LED doing a round of red. “Regardless of how you see us, we are not traditional machines. It is risky to go rooting around an android’s insides without the proper training.”

Risky, dangerous and so fucking _wrong_. He doubted Dillon was planning on asking an android’s permission before 'rooting around'.

The interrogation was suddenly going in a very different direction.

“Look at me,” Dillon gave him a wide smile. “I’ve been experimenting on a few of you in an abandoned factory for over a year, and not a scratch.” 

For fuck sake, the idiot just kept proudly confessing… They needed to find out where the fuck this factory was. He leaned over and quietly tapped the mirror, hoping someone behind it would be smart enough to take note and send a few officers out.

Dillon reached over as far as the handcuffs would allow, flattening his hand against the table and staring up at Connor with a dreamy expression. 

“You see, androids are a lot like bugs, except... I’ve never been able to pull the wings off a fly or the legs off a spider, and then put them back on again. Maybe mix them up. See if they can still walk if the legs were the other way around, or back to front.”

Connor’s LED was spinning a dark red and Gavin's stomach lurched.

Suddenly his mind was filled with what-ifs, the main one being what if Gavin hadn’t found Connor in time last night? 

Instead of Connor lying on the grass letting Gavin draw shitty stick figures on his stomach and telling him stupid stories, he could have been tied up in a grimy old factory somewhere, with Dillon taking him apart piece by piece… 

His fists clenched.

“I've never been able to change a bug's mind, play with a few wires here and there, until they're not only obedient, but willing, _happy_ even, to do whatever I ask them to. But _androids_...”

Gavin felt his rage building.

Before they deviated, androids would be outwardly obedient no matter how they felt on the inside. No matter how scared they were. 

When Connor was in this very room with Ortiz’s android… this is exactly what he was talking about. He kept getting hurt and couldn’t stop it. He _had_ to stay obedient. That was his code.

Changing their minds? An android version of brainwashing to make them believe that they didn’t just _have_ to put up with it, but that all the awful shit was _good_?

The room was feeling far too small. Between the shitty racist slurs he used about Sam and whatever the fuck this was, he was ready to burst. 

Connor caught his eye and slowly shook his head.

Dillon sighed wistfully. “The PL600s were so easy. Older models with cheap, out of date firewalls. It took me a while to get it right, find the right equipment and programs, but eventually all I had to do was download a code from some hacker online, and I was done.”

“Done?” pushed Connor.

“It was like putting a leash on them, metaphorically speaking. They became docile.”

Connor frowned, like that didn’t make any sense. “Before deviancy, PL600s were household androids, caretakers. Being docile was in their nature. Unless you mean…”

“Deviants were the easiest androids to go after,” Dillon said lazily, giving a soft yawn. “They’re broken code made them act scared. They would go into hiding, and they were always alone. Since they were old models, most people just bought a new one. Or reported it as missing property. I'm sure you cops took _real_ interest in that.”

“You go after drunk people, kids, and scared deviants feeling emotion for the first time,” snarled Gavin, shaking his head in disgust. “Just a pathetic little man who didn't get enough attention from his mommy. Selling drugs and taking apart helpless androids, does that make you feel powerful? Get you fucking _off_?”

“I told you, it doesn’t matter what you say,” Dillon sneered, without turning around. 

The creep locked eyes with Connor once more, his expression softening, like he was admiring a work of art, not being questioned by a detective. 

“Put a leash around their computer heads and they are submissive,” he said, with a sickening smile. “Calm. Like little children. Willing to do anything I ask. They please me, and I let them be happier than they’ve ever felt in their existence.” 

No, he wasn’t looking at Connor like he was anything sort of living thing… shit, all Dillon was seeing was a machine to mess with.

“Well, for as long as they last,” snickered Dillon, shrugging and leaning back in his chair. “Eventually the code breaks and they end up destroying themselves. Don’t panic though. When I finally get my hands on you, I’ll make sure you won’t destroy yourself. Your programming will buzz with how happy I can make you.”

Fuck this.

Gavin pushed off the wall, going right for him. That creep was going to fucking-

But in a flash, Connor was on his feet, shoving him against the wall behind Dillon, a hand pressed firmly to the centre of his chest.

Gavin breathed heavily through gritted teeth. 

Connor didn't say a word, only tilting his head towards the door.

Was he fucking serious?

He glanced between him and Dillon, who was disinterestedly tapping his fingers on the table.

Then he felt the soft movement of a thumb over his shirt. He caught Connor’s eye again and the android gave him a look that said everything.

That this kind of shit was nothing new. Of course it fucking wasn’t. Connor put up with this more often than Gavin could imagine. 

Fuck...

He didn't like the idea of leaving Connor with him but he didn't have a fucking choice. Not anymore. He was letting it become personal.

“Sorry,” he said slowly, for Dillon's benefit. He tried to stay calm, but he couldn't hide the angry tremor in his voice. His fingertips skimmed Connor's waist. “Feeling a bit lightheaded. Must be low blood sugar.”

“Go get a coffee, detective.” Connor offered him a small smile as he released him. 

Gavin couldn't look at Dillon as he left the room. 

But he could hear the smug creep snicker.

"And finally we're alone," was the last thing Gavin heard him say.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: Just let me kill him!  
> Connor: You're a cop.  
> Gavin: ... like, barely.  
> Connor: ........  
> Gavin: ... I'm just gunna kill him.
> 
>    
> So the interrogation took a turn for the terrible. And Gavin didn't even last long enough to get the name of the supplier. Ffs.
> 
>  
> 
> Second part up soon! And we will see the vice pricks, Uncle Sandy and Sam. 
> 
>  
> 
> And maybe some things happen. And maybe Connor does something...
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’ll remember me for the rest of their lives now, won’t they?” he spat, rising a little from his seat, stretching his hands across the table as far as they would go, obviously desperate to keep hold of Connor’s attention. “Just like you.”
> 
> “I'll remember you because I'm an android, but make no mistake. You are no different from any other criminal who sits in that chair."
> 
> Dillon's face fell into a glower. "You won't be saying that when I finally get my hands on you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long because part of the next chapter was originally included at the end of this one but I just couldn't end a chapter like... that...
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> While Gavin is annoyed at himself, Connor gets bored and distracts himself.

Chapter 21

“You want a crown for how royally you fucked that up?”

“Fuck off, Simmons. I get it. He baited me.” Gavin rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, leaning against the wall, trying to focus on what was happening through the two-way mirror. 

"And now he's alone with your android," snorted Simmons. "Nice job." 

"Watch it," cautioned Anderson, looming in the centre of the room like a redwood in a green shirt.

Yip, being on the other side wasn’t fucking helping, and not because he was stuck in a stuffy room with the three vice pricks and Anderson. 

Dillon seemed to have forgotten why he was being interrogated in the first place. He was openly ignoring Connor's questioning and, instead of providing them with any more useful intel relating to the androids, the drugs or the name of the supplier, he had started making things really fucking _weird_.

“I could make you feel so good,” Dillon’s voice carried through the speaker, loud and piercing. “Wouldn't you like that? Getting away from that man and his clumsy hands touching you, feeling you.”

Apparently, Dillon Jones was determined to give him a fucking headache no matter which side of the glass he was on.

“I'll show you fucking clumsy…” he murmured irritatedly, digging his short nails into his palms, before catching himself and pressing his lips together.

Anderson tutted, folding his arms lazily and turning his head to glance at him, his eyebrows raised. “You got something to say here, Reed?”

“Nope," he coughed, tearing his eyes away from Anderson's astute gaze and awkwardly scratching at the bite marks on his shoulder. The ones Connor had _enthusiastically_ given to him the night before. They were hidden under his t-shirt and jacket, but he could swear Anderson somehow knew they were there. 

Sure, Gavin was used to seeing the lieutenant generally pissed off at something he'd said or done, but being on the receiving end of his sharp, suspicious scrutiny? That was new.

And it was unsettling.

He already wanted to be back on the other side of the glass.

Not that Connor seemed phased in the slightest at being left alone with Dillon.

In fact, he actually looked bored. Really fucking bored. 

“Android, you’re not even listening to me!” Dillon’s voice rang in the dark room. “Am I boring you?”

“Yes,” came Connor’s snippy response.

“Knew it,” smiled Gavin fondly, chuckling quietly to himself. The android was amazing. He wanted to tap on the window, switch on the intercom and tell him that, but he managed to control that impulse. Barely.

Simmons glared at him from his post near the door.

“What?” shrugged Gavin immaturely. “That was funny. And he's got a fucking point. Dillon’s not gonna give us anything else. Just book him. Carrying on is a waste of Connor’s time. It’s a waste of all our time. I mean, I know why _we’re_ here,” he nodded his head at Anderson, “but why the fuck do all three of you have to be here too? We could have handled this without you.”

Caleb patted the table in front of him, giving a slight nod, seeming to agree. Boyd didn’t even react, which wasn't normal. Connor's threat aside, there was something definitely off about him. Gavin couldn't put his finger on it.

Not that it mattered. Other than how strangely tense his body became, and how quickly his obscenely large knuckles turned pure white as his hands clenched into fists when Gavin had entered the room, Boyd refused to even acknowledge his presence. That suited Gavin just fine.

“This is _our_ fucking gig,” Simmons snarled, jabbing a finger in Gavin’s direction. “Don’t you forget it.”

“It's easy to forget when you pricks have spent the entire time dicking around and getting nowhere,” smirked Gavin challengingly, watching Connor's LED oddly brightening as he stared at the table. Was he... daydreaming? Dillon huffed and suddenly the android's focus returned, his slender fingers sliding stealthily over the blue light on his temple.

Simmons took a threatening step towards him, blocking Connor from his view. “ _We're_ not the ones who've been _’dicking around’_ , you fucking fa-” 

“Alright, knock it off,” warned Anderson, in a tone that was somehow both soft and yet authoritative. “I get enough of this dick-measuring from my rookies. You’ve all got a job to do. How about you concentrate on that instead.”

And with that, they fell obediently silent, turning their attentions back to the interrogation as Connor raised his voice. 

“The supplier,” he demanded, his LED back to its analysing yellow. “Now!”

Fuck, that tone was hot. Gavin felt a genuine shiver run up his spine. He hadn't seen Connor in an interrogation since he'd started. He should watch more often...

The creep tapped his handcuffs on the table uncomfortably, a thin layer of sweat shining on his brow. “When we were at the club, you were all over that detective. Was that something you had planned? Like a cover? Or was he really enjoying it? Does he actually think a machine can feel anything for him?”

_Oh, come the fuck on, Dillon..._

This guy wasn't going to give him a break.

“It didn't look like a cover from where we were, did it?” snickered Simmons. “Hey Boyd, want to show him-”

Boyd’s head turned, and Gavin couldn’t see the look that passed between them, but it rendered Simmons completely silent. The man cleared his throat uneasily, tightening his arms defensively over his chest.

This was stupid. He wasn't helping anyone by staying here.

“You know what?” Gavin said, breaking the tension. “As much as I’d love to stand here and gossip, I need a smoke. Hank, if Jones says anything related to the case, or even remotely threatening to Connor, I want to know about it. I don’t need to know about... you know... the rest of this shit.”

Gavin might not expect Anderson to have _his_ back, since their relationship was one of tolerance at best, but he knew the man would have Connor’s.

“I'll keep an eye on him.” Anderson nodded slowly, looking at him curiously. "Don't you worry."

"Right," he muttered, trying to ignore Hank's underlying questioning tone. Hopefully by the time he came back, they would be finished.

He quickly escaped the room, purposefully knocking his shoulder into Simmons' on his way out.

Fuck, he was so unbelievably done with this case. He hated having to spend any longer than necessary with those three assholes. 

Moving through the precinct, ignoring the few officers he saw, he came to a fire exit. 

He peered around, shoving open the heavy door and sliding outside, taking the usual brick from the ground and wedging it between the door and its frame.

Fresh air at last.

The sky was thick with clouds, trapping in the humid heat, but despite that, he was thankful for the small space at the back of the precinct. He’d sneak out here when it all started to get too much. 

A particularly hard day. Another head to head with Fowler or Anderson. A case gone wrong.

Tina had joined him more than a few times, especially before her big day, when she doubted every decision that was leading her down the aisle. 

It was quiet, hidden from the main street, and the people who knew about it knew better than to interrupt someone aiming for it.

He lit a cigarette and began his normal routine when he was out here alone. Smoking heavily and mentally scolding himself.

Because as fucking usual, he’d let his temper take control of him.

He hadn't been prepared for how quickly the interrogation derailed. They’d gone in planning to talk about drugs and had landed in a heap of potentially brainwashed, and very likely dead, androids.

Even if Dillon wasn't actually capable of making that shit work like he said, Gavin had still left Connor alone with someone who had definitely abused androids in the sickest way possible. Selling drugs to kids, kidnapping and torturing scared deviants, using Sam so he'd never get caught holding more drugs than could be for 'personal use', Dillon was just one more person who preyed on the weak and vulnerable to make himself feel powerful. The worst of the worst. 

It was monsters like Dillon Jones that made Gavin join the force in the first place. Those who couldn't fight back needed protecting from abusers like him. 

He brought the cigarette to his lips, squeezing his jacket, where his scars were hidden under his tattoo.

At least Connor could keep his head on straight and separate his emotions from the job.

Fuck, if Connor hadn't stopped him, Gavin would have hit a handcuffed suspect because of how he spoke about androids. No, it was how he spoke about _Connor_ , like he was a toy to play with until he broke. The thought of that made him sick.

But it had only been a week since Fowler had pulled him into his office for hitting a _half_ -handcuffed suspect so as satisfying as it would have been to crush Dillon's twisted, arrogant face, Connor had probably saved his job.

Gavin dragged a hand through his hair. He needed to get a grip, grab a coffee and give the android some proper backup.

He took one last draw and threw the cigarette end into a red bucket by the wall, but just as he turned to head back in, he saw gloved fingers grasp the door and it creaked open.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff, horrifyingly unmistakable voice rasped. Dark bloodshot eyes stared at him. “No, you’re not going fuckin’ anywhere. Not until I'm done with you.”

Gavin swallowed thickly, his every instinct telling him to reach for his gun.

He knew something was off with Boyd, and he was just figuring out what it was.

_Shit._

*

“Living in a state of pure bliss, why wouldn't you want that?”

Pure bliss…

Connor’s idea of pure bliss would be getting out of this tiny room and away from this lecherous man.

He could simply get up and walk out, or he could swipe the manila file from the table and smack it unapologetically across Dillon’s conceited face before being dragged out by one of the detectives in the adjoining room.

Connor shook his head. He was definitely noticing some changes in his scenarios since he'd been spending so much time with Gavin.

“The others were so scared and weak. Not like you,” he continued, his thumbs stroking the table while his magnified eyes stared at Connor fervidly. “You’re special. We could have so much fun together. You can show me how you work, what makes you tick, and I’ll make your insides sing.”

This was worse than watching him at the club. At least there he had Gavin (for the _whole_ time) as an incredibly welcome distraction.

Here, Dillon was going around in circles, repeating himself over and over and _over_ again, and Connor was getting frustrated with the inactivity. 

He couldn’t believe that _this_ man had managed to sneak up on him. He wasn't a recently deviated PL600, scared and in hiding. He was a fully trained detective, literally built for the work. It was embarrassing.

“For the final time,” Connor spoke disdainfully, “I have no interest in going anywhere with you, or being part of your experiments.”

If Dillon had any intention of giving up the location of whatever make-shift lab he’d managed to create, if indeed he _had_ created one, he would have done it by now. 

There was no doubt the man had committed horrifying abuses against androids, that much Connor had ascertained from his questioning, but if they ever found this mysterious factory, it would most likely be filled with a lot of dead PL600 androids.

Torn apart in Dillon's sadistic quest to make them obedient.

Because there was one thing that made his clever ‘experiments’ scream false.

_//Dillon Jones is an idiot_

A dangerous, callous and savage monster that treated androids like dolls made for him to play with, but an idiot nonetheless.

Androids were the most complex and intricate marvels of technology ever created and Dillon was clearly no savant. 

If his experiments really existed, and were successful, he wasn't working alone.

It wouldn’t be a big leap to think that Dillon was part of some anti-android hate group, given what Shauna had said about his dad and the literature he brought into the club. But honestly, what self-respecting group would want to work with someone this mind-numbingly dull and _sleazy_?

Still, speculation wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Officers would know to search abandoned factories now and, for the moment, that was the best they could do.

He needed to get back to the reason Dillon was here in the first place, which was proving to be difficult. The man had stopped talking about the drugs a while ago and currently every word coming out of his mouth was just more ways of trying to convince Connor, _seduce him_ , into leaving with him. 

As if Connor would jump at the chance to uncuff him, take his hand and skip merrily out of the precinct, into whatever hellhole of a nest Dillon had made for his victims…

“Why else would you be here if you had no interest in me?” Dillon purred, licking his lips until they were wet and shiny. “You’re obviously intrigued. I shocked you quite a few times, and you screamed so much more than the others did, but you still came back to speak with me.”

Connor’s eyes flickered involuntarily to the two-way mirror, thinking of the one person behind it that he really didn't want knowing the details of last night, and the other who certainly didn't need reminding... 

“I’m here because you asked for me, Dillon,” he said, doing his best to keep his composure and trying not to show just how repulsed he actually was. “I’ve stayed for the past hour hoping that you would realise what’s going on. You are going to prison. I'm trying to help you spend less time there but-”

“I could make you feel so good…” he prattled on, starting to fully rub his hands on the table.

Shit, he just wouldn’t _stop._

He wouldn’t have to experiment on Connor to kill him. He was literally going to die of boredom.

Sitting back in his seat, ignoring him, his thoughts drifted to Gavin. He wanted to find him and ridicule him senseless for losing his temper so easily. He had played right into Dillon's hands. 

Hopefully, he would be realising that by now.

Not that Connor blamed him for it. 

Gavin's temper had flared significantly when Connor had agreed to do the interrogation in the first place, and he had been so utterly determined to be in the room with him during it, he was willing to argue with Fowler, knowing perfectly well that he was on his _last chance_.

Connor should have known he was going to act so... protectively, when faced with Dillon's indifferent tone towards androids.

The truth was, it made Connor feel-

“Android, you’re not even listening to me!” Dillon exclaimed, affronted. “Am I boring you?”

“Yes,” drawled Connor, without a second thought, tapping the file. 

Dillon made an indignant noise that Connor chose to ignore.

“We will find wherever you have been keeping the androids,” he promised, picking up the file. Dillon sat up straighter, his lips pursed. “And even if we don’t, you endangered the lives of children, for the sake of revenge against people who left the school years before. Teachers, who probably forgot all about you as soon as you left-”

“They’ll remember me for the rest of their lives now, won’t they?” he spat, rising a little from his seat, stretching his hands across the table as far as they would go, obviously desperate to keep hold of Connor’s attention. “Just like you.”

“I'll remember you because I'm an android, but make no mistake. You are no different from any other criminal who sits in that chair."

Dillon's face fell into a glower. "You won't be saying that when I finally get my hands on you."

_//Dillon Jones: Stress levels 51%_

"You will not get your hands on me, Dillon," he said forcefully. "You need to accept what is happening here. There are consequences for your actions and I'm not convinced you realise how much trouble you are in. You _are_ going to prison. What will work in your favour is if you cooperate with me. Give us the name of the supplier."

Dillon huffed a laugh, falling back in his chair. He tried to cross his arms, but was jerked back by his handcuffs. He growled frustratedly and looked away. “You androids are supposed to be smart, but you just don't understand a thing. He left you alone! All by yourself! He doesn't see how special you are and you’d still rather go with him. What does he have that I don't?”

Connor frowned.

What did Gavin have that Dillon didn't? Even a week ago, that would have been easy to answer, but now his processors buzzed with the differences. 

A better personality, that was an obvious one. Both inner and outer strength. A secret kindness and sweetness that were elevated by his magnetic energy, and hidden behind his loud mouth, quick temper and brashness. Thick, soft hair that felt amazing gripped in between Connor's fingers. Beautiful, stormy eyes and a smile that made Connor want to freeze time.

An incredibly clever brain in his head (usually, at least) that made him invaluable to the DPD. 

His competitive nature and his good humour... Connor couldn't recall ever smiling so easily, laughing so much.

His gentle yet strong arms that made him feel wonderfully safe and content when they surrounded him, the irresistible warmth that radiated from his body as they held each other. 

Full lips that had Connor's mind lighting up in a million different ways when they pressed against his own, passionately, insatiably or tenderly. Always unabashed. His deep, sultry voice that spilled moans against his ear when-

_//Dillon Jones: Stress levels 43%_

Connor blinked.

Shit.

He was getting distracted. 

Again.

He stroked his LED, hoping it wasn't glowing as bright as he knew it probably was. He quickly brought his attention back to the task at hand. “Let’s leave Detective Reed out of this. Who are you getting the drugs from?”

“I mean,” Dillon kept talking, “I can get plenty of humans to follow me, why won't you-”

“You’ve been offering young people a dangerous substance that they have grown addicted to,” snapped Connor. He was done being patient. “It’s not you they are following, Dillon. It is the drug. The supplier. Now!”

_//Dillon Jones: Stress levels 62%_

Dillon bristled in his seat. An authoritative tone had proven to be his weak point, but he _still_ wasn’t ready to answer.

“When we were at the club,” he asked, his tongue drifting over his teeth, knocking his handcuffs against the table, “you were all over that detective. Was that something you had planned? Like a cover? Or was he really enjoying it? Does he actually think a machine can feel anything for him?”

Connor almost laughed. He couldn't express what he felt for Gavin Reed. The man had imprinted himself in every section of his mind. He had never experienced anything like it.

He doubted Dillon had ever felt _anything_ towards anyone other than himself.

Connor honestly hoped he never needed to cross paths with this pathetic human again.

“Goodbye, Dillon.” He stood up, ready to leave.

“Wait…” Dillon whined at last. Connor turned, seeing the man glance sweetly at him from under heavy blond lashes, his blue eyes unnaturally large under his thick glasses. “You want a name?”

Connor looked at him expectantly.

Dillon sat back, relaxed. “Frank Miller.”

_//False_

“No!” Connor slammed his hand down on the table. Dillon jumped. “I want the _real_ name.”

All of the man’s statements about wanting to control and hurt androids were at least ringing some version of the truth, but _that_ was an outright lie.

“It's the truth. Frank has been giving me the red ice.” He gave a conceited smile, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s the only name you’re getting from me.”

Well, Gavin was definitely right. Connor wondered how much he would gloat about that. He was definitely going to get another smug ‘I told you so.’

Damn.

“You’ve been purposefully wasting our time,” Connor shook his head.

“But not _my_ time,” smirked Dillon. “I’m so glad I had the chance to sit with you. You're so much prettier than the PL600s. Unique. You have more... fight. I can't wait to add you to my collection.” 

He wriggled forward in his chair excitedly, the heavy chain around his neck clanging on the metal table. “I wish we could have finished what we started last night. When I get out, we can go back to the club together and you can have your mouth on _my_ neck, not on that stupid detective’s.” He licked his lips. “After I _fix_ you, you’ll be hungry for more of _me_.”

He was so glad Gavin had left when he did. If he had stayed, Connor had no doubt Dillon would be suffering from a broken nose after having had his head smashed against the table.

Connor was suddenly starting to appreciate where the detective’s impulses came from.

“We're done,” he said, feeling relief at those words. “It is unfortunate that you didn’t share the name of the actual supplier with me. It could have helped your situation.”

Dillon scoffed. “You keep looking at me like I’m some sort of villain, but be honest. When it comes to androids, most people think the same way as me. And the drugs? That’s nothing. I’ll be out in a year. Probably not even that long. I can be charming when I want to be.”

Charming? Maybe he should submit the man for a psychiatric evaluation.

“Dillon,” said Connor, frowning. “I don’t think you understand the severity of this situation. You are going to prison for far longer than a year. You attacked a detective with a deadly weapon, and even if the judge gives you leniency for attacking me, they certainly won’t for attacking Detective Reed.”

_//Dillon Jones: Stress levels 70%_

“He attacked me first,” Dillon sulked, staring at his hands.

“Because you wouldn’t drop your weapon when asked,” explained Connor, hoping to get through to him. “You’re a twenty-two-year-old man who used a child to carry your stash. Your own cousin. You purposely sold hard, life-destroying drugs to teenagers. I can’t imagine any judge who would give you a light sentence. This is your last chance. Who gave you the red ice?”

_//Dillon Jones: Stress levels 79%_

The man slowly shook his head, his lips pressed shut.

There was no more pushing that Connor could do to get the name out of him. He’d come at him from every angle, but whoever the supplier was clearly had him wrapped around his finger. 

He picked up the file and put his hand on the scanner, leaving Dillon alone.

As soon as he was in the corridor, Simmons threw open the door of the adjoining room with an air of superiority.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he said haughtily. “Frank Miller. He was always going to be our guy. If you’d looked around his house properly, we’d have had him in here instead of wasting our time with Jones. Sending a fucking android to do a human’s job. Playing fucking pretend with a badge.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Dillon is lying. Any fool could see that. Your intel says the supplier was creating the drugs in his home. There wasn’t a trace of it in the Miller residence, and I can’t imagine a person making red ice would invite the entire neighbourhood over for a party either. The only locked room I could find was filled with guns, do you really think he’d stash a red ice lab somewhere else? The place was crawling with people for a whole afternoon!”

“Ha! Listen to you, full of excuses. Just accept that you failed.” He looked over his shoulder for support from Caleb, who walked silently into the small corridor, his arms folded.

Hank followed close behind him, grimacing at Simmons. “That kid was never going to tell you the real name. You saw how he looked when he gave Miller up. Sounds like he knew the man would be an easy target. My money says Connor’s right. He’s lying.”

Simmons shook his head at the lieutenant, but seemed to know better than to mouth off at him. “Who else have you managed to get on your list of suspects, android? Fucking nobody! You need to remember you’ve only been on this for four fucking days-!”

“And Gavin and I have still managed to get further than you idiots have!” Connor hit back, the anger inside him close to bursting. He took a breath to cool his systems. “The only reason you knew Dillon would be selling last night was because of us and...”

Wait.

Something was wrong.

_//Gavin is not here_

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to-“

“Be quiet,” he interrupted, looking around. Shit. “Hank, where's Gavin?”

“Think it was getting too stuffy in there for him.” He tilted his head, running his eyes over Simmons. “He went for a smoke.”

That made sense but…

“Where's Boyd?”

“Went to the bathroom,” snickered Simmons, nodding his head to Caleb. They both started walking away.

Perhaps it was the hour he'd just spent with the creepiest human he had ever met, or the arrogant look of victory on Simmons’ face, but before he could stop himself, he was moving after him.

Grabbing the man by the arm, Connor spun him around and pinned him to the glass wall of the breakroom.

“I asked you a question, Simmons,” he hissed. “I know a lie when I hear one. Don’t make me ask again.”

"Maybe they're getting reacquainted." The man grunted as Connor pushed his arm further up his back, but he didn't stop talking. "You probably don't want to interrupt them. Might not like what you find."

“Connor! My office!” Fowler’s voice echoed through the precinct, so loud it made Caleb jump. 

Shit.

“Daddy sounds mad,” Simmons sneered, not caring that his face was being squashed, his breath dampening the glass. “Better run along now.”

“Hank." Connor gave him a sideways glance that the man understood immediately.

“They've not been gone for long,” Hank assured him, his large hand squeezing Connor's shoulder. "I know where he likes to go. I'll check on him, then I'll make sure these assholes find their way outta here.”

Connor shoved Simmons to the side, and the man stumbled trying to stay on his feet. 

“Fucking androids...” muttered the inept detective.

“Hey,” Hank clicked his fingers. “Remember whose house you’re in, Simmons. Go finish your reports and get that kid out of here before I remind you who outranks who. How is your captain these days? It’s Lesley, right? I’m sure she’ll be real interested to know how you’re representing your department in another precinct.”

Reluctantly, Connor tore himself away, walking towards the captain's office as his fingers went to his shirt, absently tracing the drawing hidden there, underneath the skin of his stomach.

If Gavin returned with so much as a paper cut, Boyd was going to regret the very second he decided to ignore Connor's warning.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: Glad I got out of there. There was awful.  
> Gavin, five minutes later: Nope. There was fine, let me back in.
> 
> Connor, thinking about Gavin: *LED brightens*  
> Gavin: Is he daydreaming in an interrogation? Nah.
> 
>  
> 
>    
> This is why they shouldn't be allowed out alone. Walking disasters...
> 
>  
> 
> I'm apparently bad at recognising how much I'm going to write so... still to come... Sandy, Sam, Connor doing something...
> 
> And of course, Gavin getting into some trouble. Because it is a day that ends in 'y'.
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hand on his jaw tightened.
> 
> “You’re fucking disgusting,” Boyd growled, baring his teeth. “I don't believe this. You really _are_ fucking the bot? I thought you were just... Fuck, it's a machine! How could you be that desperate? Sink that fuckin' low?!"
> 
> His pure revulsion only spurred Gavin on more.
> 
> “Want to know a secret?” he said, lowering his voice. He jutted his chin into Boyd's palm. “He’s _way_ fucking better than you ever were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaaaaah this took so long!!! Forgive me!! 
> 
> Also, forgive me for this chapter, it was a hard one...
> 
> Gavin's going solo...
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning for violence**

Chapter 22

Every alarm bell in Gavin's head was going off. 

He knew the signs. He'd witnessed them first hand during their relationship, but this was different. This was on the _job_.

Boyd couldn't possibly be that _fucking stupid_.

He took a deep breath, a tight knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you want?” he asked, shoving a hand into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes. This day couldn't be over fast enough... 

“Some time alone with you, darlin'." Those bloodshot eyes raked over him. “Without your pretty little guard dog.”

Gavin's fingers tensed on his lighter. 

“His name is _Connor_ ,” he said, lighting his cigarette, jealously watching the pale smoke escape into the air. "Don't even... just keep your mouth shut about him. I'm not in the fucking mood."

“Oh? You finally ready to stop being such a pussy? Please,” Boyd snorted, shoving the fire door so hard that it slammed violently, bouncing off the loose brick at its corner. The harsh noise echoed in the quiet space. “You know, if you put that sharp tongue and sweet mouth of yours to better use, we’d have got rid of this tension between us years ago.”

Oh, come on...

"Tension? Is that what we're calling it? Fuck, Steve,” Gavin chuckled wryly, resting his head back against the cold, concrete wall, taking a deep draw. "I'm so sick and tired of this shit. You know damn well I'm not going to hit you, so what the fuck are you doing out here?”

Boyd laced his fingers together, stretching them out in front of him until his knuckles cracked, the leather of his gloves squeaking. “You keep telling me you can't risk your precious job. I suppose that's understandable. Don't want to lose the only thing you've got going for you. Still, it's just us now. One on one. That seems fair, right?”

Gavin's eyes fell to the gloves, a paranoid itch settling underneath his skin. It was the middle of fucking June.

“It's not just my job, asshole. We used to _sleep together_." It was hard not to let his bitterness about that fact seep into his tone. He pulled his jacket further over his chest, feeling a creeping chill despite the humid heat. “You might be alright with hitting someone you’ve been close to but you won’t turn me into some kind of fucking _abuser_.”

He muttered the last word, caught off-guard by a twinge of shame, shame that shouldn't fucking be there. 

Somehow it didn't matter how many victims he'd coached through situations just like this as an officer. When it came to himself, he was filled with the same doubts as they were.

He was smart. Strong. A fucking cop. How could a person like him be a victim?

But he'd worked enough years on the beat to know that this shit... it could happen to fucking _anybody_.

“Abuser...” repeated Boyd with a cruel laugh, drifting lazily towards him. His mouth twisted into a sneer. “The poor fuckin’ orphan boy. If mommy hadn’t killed herself, if daddy hadn’t run off the first chance he got, maybe they’d have taught you how to be a real fucking man and not the griping bitch you’ve turned into.”

Every single muscle in Gavin's body tensed. “I never told you about my fucking mom-”

Boyd came to a sudden stop in front of him and Gavin was forced to close his mouth, the overpowering scent of musky aftershave assaulting his nose. He remembered that smell vividly. It was Boyd’s shitty, haphazard attempt to disguise the stench of stale alcohol sticking to his clothes, sweating out of his pours... 

The familiarity of it turned Gavin's stomach.

“I have my ways,” Boyd said contentedly, reaching out to touch the bruise he'd made on Gavin’s cheek. “But let’s not think about that now. We’ve not been alone in so long. It’s nice. It feels right. Come on, don’t you remember all the good times we had? Back before you had to ruin it all by writing that report?"

The guy didn't have an _ounce_ of fucking shame. Not as his leather-clad fingers slid down his face and over his jaw. He just kept smiling, thumbing the scrapes on Gavin's neck, like the marks he'd made the day before were something to be fucking proud of.

Fuck, how was it that only three years ago, they had been celebrating in a bar after a closed case, flirting with each other, kissing each other, heading away to sleep with each other…

Gavin was a fucking _idiot_. He didn’t see what was right in front of him. 

“We never had any ‘good times',” he muttered, throwing his cigarette to the ground. “We were over long before I wrote that fucking report. If you're looking for a fight, go somewhere else. You're not getting a thing from me.”

Boyd whined, deep and wearily, tugging his fingers awkwardly underneath Gavin’s collar, the leather of the gloves sticking uncomfortably to his skin. “I don’t want to fight with you. I think I've missed you, and it doesn't matter how much you deny it, I know you've missed me too.”

That fucking...

“Missed you?” Gavin stared at him in disbelief, and suddenly his mouth was working faster than his brain. “There’s nothing to fucking miss! One of the worst mistakes I ever made was sleeping with you that night. If I’d known who you really were back then, that never would have happened. There’s not a shred of decency, of fucking _humanity_ , in your entire fucking body, is there? You never gave a _shit_ about me. You’ve never given a shit about anyone! All I ever got was un-fucking-provoked _anger_ just for being with you, being near you. You're a goddamn fucking coward, Boyd! Nothing more!”

The look of deep satisfaction on Boyd's face only made Gavin's nausea worse. When would he learn? This was exactly what Boyd wanted, to see him lose control.

“No humanity? You don't see the irony... in...”

Boyd faltered, frowning at Gavin's neck.

Suddenly, he tugged so hard on his t-shirt that Gavin had to brace against the wall to stay standing.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

But a thick hand grabbed hold of his jaw, effectively shutting him up, while the other stretched his collar as far as it would go, until Gavin could hear the stitching start to pop. 

He gritted his teeth, clutching the wall behind him, still refusing to budge. He wasn't going to fight, but he sure as fuck wasn't going to run away either. Shit, maybe Connor was right. Maybe he was too stubborn for his own good.

Boyd’s eyes widened in confusion at the bare skin of Gavin’s shoulder. 

What was he...

Gavin followed his gaze.

Oh, no fucking way.

A burst of involuntary laughter left him when he spotted the soft purple and red marks littering his collarbone. 

He shouldn’t say anything... but he couldn't control himself.

“What?" he grinned, in spite of the large hands at his throat. “Disappointed that not all of my bruises came from you? Or are you just jealous? I've gotta say, I definitely didn't mind getting these-”

The hand on his jaw tightened.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Boyd growled, baring his teeth. “I don't believe this. You really _are_ fucking the bot? I thought you were just... Fuck, it's a machine! How could you be that desperate? Sink that fuckin' low?!"

His pure revulsion only spurred Gavin on more. 

“Want to know a secret?” he said, lowering his voice. He jutted his chin into Boyd's palm. “He’s _way_ fucking better than you ever were.”

He knew that would be the final push Boyd needed, and maybe it was stupid, but Gavin had shit to do today and he needed this to be over with.

Like fucking clockwork, Boyd was in his face, grabbing Gavin by his ruined t-shirt and shoving him up against the wall, hard enough to knock the air out of him.

“For fuck sake...!” grimaced Gavin, trying to shrug him off but the prick had a good hold of him. “Haven’t you had enough of this bullshit yet? What the fuck is your problem with me? It’s been fucking years! Move on!”

Boyd's wet lips were suddenly at Gavin’s ear, spitting his words intensely. “How am I supposed to move on when you won’t let me? Looking like this... That android business is just a cry for attention, isn't it? You want this just as much as I do. You're practically begging for it. That’s the real reason you won’t fight back. You can’t lie to me. I can feel it.” 

On that last sentence, Boyd’s hand slid down Gavin’s front, settling at his crotch and squeezing him through his jeans, pressing a heavy forearm against Gavin's neck.

Gavin's hands shot instantly to Boyd's wide chest, managing to put a few inches of distance between them, but Boyd was twice his fucking size, and he easily flattened him against the wall once more.

“Fuck!” cursed Gavin, narrowly avoiding cracking his head on the concrete. “Get your fucking hands off me, Boyd!”

This was further than the prick had ever gone before. Kicking the shit out of him and leaving, that was his usual MO, but this...

“Hush, darlin'. The pointless chatter, it makes you really unattractive,” Boyd crooned, pressing his cold nose against Gavin's neck and inhaling. “That bot was a good placeholder, but you shouldn't get attached to objects. It can't give you what you need.”

Shit, he sounded like fucking _Dillon_. Gavin barely resisted the urge to turn his head and clamp his teeth into the man’s skull until there was a hole crushed into it.

“You don’t know what I _need_ ,” Gavin hissed out, trying once again to push him away, but it was like attempting to move a fucking boulder. He let out a frustrated growl. “Fuck, Boyd! You can’t even make it through five fucking minutes without assaulting me! You have no fucking clue what I want!”

“And the bot does?” Boyd laughed spitefully against his skin. “Here I thought you were just letting it fuck you. Finally getting something in that tight ass of yours after so many years.”

Gavin’s stomach gave a violent churn as the prick's hand squeezed his crotch, before dragging gracelessly over his hip and grabbing his ass, holding him close.

“Just a bunch of wires,” Boyd muttered into his ear. “That's what you're letting fuck you. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah," Gavin breathed, just as quietly, a smile on his lips. "Maybe he is just a bunch of wires. And he bleeds blue. Talks about scenarios and probability more than anyone I've ever met, but you want to know the real difference between you and him? He has a fucking _soul_." He felt Boyd stiffen, but he didn't stop. "That, and he's really fucking hot too. And ridiculously smart. Doesn't think you need to hit someone to prove how much of a man you are-"

“Because it's not a fucking man!” sneered Boyd viciously, surging his elbow against Gavin's throat. “When did you get so soft, Reed? Does it hold you at night, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, wipe away your tears when you wake up from a bad dream? All of that pathetic bullshit? It’s a fucking machine!"

Gavin forced out a choked laugh, wheezing against the unwanted pressure. He wasn't giving in. “The only thing that’s pathetic here is you... and your fucking _obsession_ with me. Just tell me what you want... so we can get back to doing our fucking jobs... because I'm seriously getting _bored_.”

Boyd went suddenly quiet, his bloodshot eyes softening, and Gavin had a fleeting and confusing thought that he might be ready to call it a day.

But his brain must have been deprived of oxygen for too long, because he really should have known better.

Instead, Boyd hummed as he groped Gavin's ass once last time, lingering too long, before reaching behind his back.

“You know what I really want, darlin’?” he said, sounding suspiciously relaxed. “I want to fuck up that robot. I want to set it on fire and watch it fucking _burn_ after what it did at the warehouse.”

All of Gavin's bravado left him, his blood turning to ice in his veins, when he heard a soft click.

Boyd pulled away, putting a foot of space between them, and Gavin barely had a chance to suck in some much needed air before a firearm was aiming straight to his forehead, held tightly in gloved hands. 

"Who knows?" Boyd shrugged lightly. "Maybe that'll still happen. But you won’t be around to see it.”

What the…

“Steve, what the fuck are you doing?” he coughed, pressing his back flat against the wall, his heart thudding, staring at the gun that wasn't standard _fucking_ issue.

He was right...

Holy shit, he was fucking _right_...

Those reddened eyes, drops of sweat gathered at his neck, a slight tremor in his wrist as he held the gun out in front of him…

“You’re fucking _high_ ,” Gavin said, the confirmation knocking into him. “This isn't coke, is it? For fuck sake, Steve. When did you move on to red ice, you unbelievably stupid prick!”

Gavin felt his ex's rumble of laughter in his core. “Scared, darlin’? Good. Because I’ve been dreaming about this since you made that fucking report.”

_'I’ve been dreaming about this since the first second I saw you...'_

Shit, no. Not those fucking words…

“I knew it would feel great, but actually doing it? Wiping that smug look off your face?” Boyd breathed in the outside air, letting out a loud exhale with a manic grin on his scarred face. “This is fucking orgasmic!”

The cold metal dug harshly into the skin on Gavin’s forehead. 

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Steve,” he said carefully. “We’re at the station. Tell me that’s not fucking loaded.”

But Boyd wasn’t listening anymore.

“Do _you_ want to know a secret, darlin'?” he asked, grasping Gavin's hair and tugging hard, leaning in to press his sweat-soaked beard against his cheek. “This isn’t even mine. Borrowed it from an old perp of yours. Could have rounded up all of your arrests, and half of your colleagues too, I’d be fucking swimming in scum and officers throwing their weapons at me to get rid of you.”

_He was lying. He had to be..._

He needed to get out of this.

The gun dragged painfully across Gavin's forehead, jabbing into the soft tissue of his temple instead. The bastard pulled back, staring intently into his eyes, his excitement clearly growing.

Gavin swallowed thickly.

This was it. This was how he was going to fucking die.

There was probably some poetic justice in a death like this. Being on the business end of a detective's gun. 

If Connor hadn't been so fast, if Gavin had taken his time to properly aim, this is how the android would have gone.

_‘I was only one in a long line of replacements.’_

Just how many 'replacements' did Cyberlife have back then? Would an entirely different Connor have emerged? Would the new Connor have deviated? Would he have rescued all those other androids in the tower?

Would he still have come back to the DPD, playing his stupid pranks, driving Hank crazy?

Would he be the same person Gavin had fallen for?

_‘I won’t be able to find out now.’_

_‘You won’t fucking need to.’_

The impulsive promise he'd made on the day they started working together... it was one Gavin was planning on keeping.

He just needed to fucking _think_ because he sure as fuck wasn't going out like this.

“What’s going through your head right now, darlin'? You praying to whatever god would have a dirty rat like you? Tell me.”

Leather stroked the bruise on his cheek.

What the fuck was he going to do?

Gavin shut his eyes tightly.

_Connor._

The only person on this planet who had the uncanny ability to calm him with a fucking touch. He really needed some of that calmness right now.

Connor and his blue blushing cheeks trying beer for the first time. Playing with Gizmo. Freaking out over taking a bath. Pulling Gavin into the bath...

The solid metal drifted through his hair.

_It's not loaded._

His attentive, caring fingers caressing his jaw as he checked for breakages. Running through his hair. Tracing his tattoo...

The barrel pressed into his scalp.

_It's not fucking loaded._

The sweet taste of Connor's lips pressed against his for the first time, soaking wet on the grass under the hot sun...

A cold laugh sounded against his ear.

_It's not fucking loaded._

“Times up, rat.”

Shit. This couldn't be it. He wanted another chance to hold him again. To feel his warmth. See those dark eyes looking at him like he was... someone worth seeing. 

He wanted to be lying on the couch with him again, sharing stupid stories or playing fucking games, just feeling that incredible _comfort_ he had never felt with anybody else.

Like, for the first time in his life, he was fucking _home_...

Holy shit, how had it been less than a week? He needed more time. He was so fucking in l-

“Don’t worry about your pretty sexbot,” whispered Boyd, interrupting his thoughts. Gavin's ears perked up. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of. Until little Dillon gets out. He’ll be needing a friend to play with and he seems very taken with your _toy_.”

...

Fuck this.

It's not fucking loaded. That was it. He’d decided.

And even if it was, he wasn't going down without a fight. He was done taking shit from this fuckwit.

He was... he was just fucking _done_.

Gavin's eyes shot open, seeing Boyd’s self-satisfied sneer just inches from his face. 

“You’re not going to touch a hair on his fucking head, Steve,” he promised, his lip twitching upwards, feeling the energy begin to pulse through him as he mentally switched gears. 

Boyd snickered. “But I am, darlin'. I'm going to melt it down into the scrap metal it-"

“Steve Boyd,” came a loud voice from the fire door, and Gavin didn’t have time to process his surprise at hearing Anderson, seeing him at the door with his weapon raised, because he might not get another chance.

Without a second of hesitation, Gavin snatched Boyd’s arm, hearing the resounding _click_ of the empty chamber against his ear.

It was never fucking loaded…

Gavin swore as he wrenched Boyd's wrist behind his back, twisting it outwards. 

He swiftly brought his own elbow up, and slammed it down on the back of Boyd's. 

The joint dislocated with a gratifying, but grizzly, crack, immediately followed by a piercing scream of agony and the clang of the heavy gun on the concrete.

“Son of a bitch!” roared Boyd as Gavin kicked the empty gun away from him out of force of habit. "Rat bastard!"

“Shut your fucking mouth, you psychotic prick!” Gavin exploded, adrenaline suddenly flooding his veins. He drove his foot into the back of Boyd's knees, and the asshole collapsed to the ground with a furious yell, clutching at the mangled arm hanging limply at his side. “Getting off on seeing me think I’m going to fucking die? You're a sick fucking freak!”

But Boyd clambered to his feet, seemingly through sheer will and much faster than Gavin was prepared for, going for the firearm in his actual holster with his good hand. “You’re going to fucking die for this!”

“You don’t have the fucking balls!” raged Gavin, shoving him backwards, his common sense gone, replaced with the need to tear Boyd's skin from his fucking bones.

“That's enough!” shouted Anderson furiously, the words booming in the empty space. Gavin would have found the tone threatening if he didn't hear it almost every other day. “You have thirty seconds to explain to me what the hell is going on here!”

“This fucking asshole threatened me, attacked me!” yelled Boyd, spit flying from his mouth, his very much loaded police issue weapon now firmly in his hand.

“Fuck!” Gavin gave a cynical laugh that was a few pitches too high. He could feel his heart beating in a frenzy inside his skull. His throat and jaw throbbed from being forcefully held. “You bastard! Am I ever going to be fucking rid of you?!”

He couldn't keep fucking doing this every time he saw him. He was escalating, and the end goal was pretty fucking obvious.

“You see?” Boyd said exasperatedly, straightening, his finger floating about the trigger. “The guy is crazy! He's had it out for me since I broke it off with him. He’s a fucking stalker. I bet he volunteered to take this case just to be around me.”

Gavin shook his head with a loud groan, digging his palms into his eyes. This was exactly the same shit Boyd had pulled three years ago. He made Gavin out to be the aggressor and it had worked a fucking treat.

“So you followed him out here to avoid him?” Anderson asked, an eyebrow raised. “Seems like you missed the point there.”

“Wait, wait. You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, lieutenant,” explained Boyd rapidly, tugging at his messed-up arm awkwardly. “I just came out here to tell him it was never going to happen. To get him to back off.”

Silence followed, broken only by Boyd's ragged breathing.

“Right...” nodded Anderson, lowering his gun slightly. “That sounds plausible.”

Shit.

Of course it did. Just like everything the guy fucking said. 

Gavin ran a hand through his damp hair, rolling his eyes with a disbelieving sigh, letting defeat wash over him.

It wasn’t like he’d given Anderson much reason to trust him. He was never going to believe him.

Why the fuck would he?

"You know, a funny thing happened six months ago," Anderson started, his back straight in his vibrant shirt, his pale blue eyes focused. "You might remember, there was a revolution. Reed, Connor and I were hauled into the captain's office for a tellin' off for being our respective idiot selves. Punching FBI agents, holding guns to each other, knocking each other out. Got the shit yelled out of us. What do you call it, Reed?”

Gavin folded his arms, numbly answering, “The Fury of Fowler...”

Boyd’s brow furrowed, his hand twitching around his gun.

“That’s it. Well, in the midst of Fowler’s fury, he reminded us that there are cameras all over the station,” he continued with a smirk, slowly moving forward. “Not just inside, but outside too. How about we all head to Fowler's office and take a look? It might clear all this up.”

Cameras? 

Gavin vaguely remembered that conversation. It was the same day he first spoke with Connor after he deviated. Well, ‘spoke with’ might be a bit strong. It was more of an uncomfortably forced apology before they both stormed stubbornly out of the room.

“Where the fuck...” Boyd hesitated, eyes darting around them.

Anderson nodded over his shoulder. “You think you can attack Reed here and nobody would give a shit? This is his fucking _home_.”

“Attack?!” Boyd's focus flew back to Anderson. “Look at me! He's the one who-”

“Defended himself from someone sexually assaulting him,” finished Hank sternly, his expression turning dark. “Someone holding a gun to his head. Someone who was threatening not just his life, but the life of another one of our detectives. A very good friend of mine.”

Gavin blinked. How long had Anderson been at the fucking door? He would have asked but Boyd’s finger was now settled on the trigger.

“This is none of your fucking business,” grunted Boyd, his body tensed in obvious pain and agitation.

Shit no. He was _not_ going to be the one to explain to Connor how Hank got shot by his asshole ex.

“Hank, he’s right,” said Gavin, slowly moving between them. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Gavin, just… be smart for once in your life and shut up,” Hank grumbled, before raising his voice. “Boyd, holster your goddamn weapon right now.”

“You don't even like him,” snarled Boyd, sweat pouring out of his reddened face, jutting his gun towards the door. “Why don’t you do as Reed says and fuck off!”

“That's not gonna happen. You're in my home too.” Hank moved forward, standing at Gavin’s side, his gun aimed. “Reed might be an aggressive pain in the ass who needs a lesson in manners but he’s one of mine. You'll need to do a hell of a lot to convince me he deserves a fucking bullet.”

That just made Gavin’s head hurt even more. 

Boyd's eyes flashed, and for a second, Gavin was sure the prick was going to do something really fucking stupid, until, out of absolutely nowhere, his entire demeanour changed.

He gave a weak shake of his head and exaggeratedly shoved his gun back into its holster, breaking into a bout of eerie hysterical laughter.

Gavin cringed at the sound.

“Come on, Anderson,” he grinned wildly, his broken arm dangling loosely like he didn't even feel it anymore. “I was just fucking with him. The gun wasn't even loaded! You knew that, you must have seen the bullets! Not my fault the little bitch can't take a fucking joke.”

“You-" Gavin started, gritting his teeth.

But a strong hand gripped his shoulder and tugged him back. Anderson gave him a knowing look and shook his head.

He growled, his nails digging into the leather of his jacket. “Just... pack yourself, your fucking sidekicks and that creep Dillon into your car and get fucking gone, Boyd.”

“You heard the man,” Hank said, as steady as ever, backing him up before Boyd could argue. “Stop by the hospital too and get your arm fixed up. I want you in good health for the sit down you’ll be having with your captain. I better not see your face around here again.”

Boyd shrugged nonchalantly, looking right into Gavin’s eyes. “Nothing worth sticking around for anyway.”

“Fuck, Boyd." Gavin wanted to laugh, the depleting adrenaline leaving a deep heaviness in its place. "What the fuck did I do to make you this angry? Even before I wrote that damn report…”

Boyd smiled sharply, dragging his eyes over him. "I'll see you later, darlin'.”

And just like that, he disappeared back through the fire door. 

Gavin couldn’t speak, the entire situation replaying in his mind. The itch in his skin worsened, his heart beating too fast, refusing to slow down. 

Boyd's footsteps faded and a door slammed. 

Finally-

“Am I in the fucking twilight zone?” Anderson shouted, breaking the tenuous silence, shoving his gun back into its holster. 

Gavin could only stare, still dazed, as the lieutenant rounded on him.

“A guy has you pinned against a wall and you decide to show _restraint_ for the first time in your goddamn life? Meanwhile I’ve got Connor inside ready to rip another piece of shit detective limb from fucking limb, just for lying to him? What the fuck is going on here? Did you switch personalities while I wasn’t looking?”

Gavin frowned, barely hearing his words. “What the fuck happened to Connor?”

Hank took an exasperated breath, waving a hand at him. “He’s inside, getting a tellin’ off. The kid never stands up for himself, barely raises his voice outside an interrogation, but he spends a week with you and…” He trailed off.

Gavin wanted to be proud of that, but he was starting to feel his body shiver as the reality of what just happened began to sink in. 

“What are you doing out here anyway?” he asked quietly, knowing a louder volume would give his stress away.

Pale blue eyes locked on him, with a concern Gavin had never seen before. “Connor sent me. He had a minor meltdown when he realised both you and Boyd weren't where you should be. To be honest, I only came out to give you a hard time, until I spotted that moron doing it for me.”

“And how long were you-” he started.

“Long enough,” Anderson said simply. “Had to step over a pile of bullets at the door, so I figured he was messing with you. I would have walked out sooner but I needed to know...”

He shrugged, resting his hands on his hips.

“That I wasn't lying in that stupid fucking report,” Gavin finished for him, throwing himself against the wall and sliding down it. He dug into his pocket for a smoke.

“Yeah,” nodded Anderson slowly, watching him. “Wasn't really in a good place back then. Didn't know much about what really happened.”

Gavin couldn't blame him for that. Hank lost his _son_. Cole was a sweet kid, always happy, always energetic. Weirdly well-behaved for someone his age but he supposed that was Hank's doing.

Maybe things would have been different if Cole had lived. If Hank had stayed the man he was becoming once more. Hell, they weren't on such bad terms back then. If he'd been around for the shitshow that followed that report, then maybe...

“I know,” shrugged Gavin, digging his heels into the concrete. “Thanks. For coming out when you did. I owe you.”

“Gavin Reed shows gratitude. Shit, is the world ending?” he gave a small smile, shaking his head at Gavin's raised eyebrow. “Just, forget about it. You kinda forced my hand. Saw you give him _that_ look. I knew you were about to do something really fucking stupid.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh. Sure, he was about to do something, he just had no fucking clue what that something was.

“Besides, that asshole needed to pick on someone his own size.”

It took far too long for those words to permeate. He quickly looked up to see the lieutenant smirking proudly.

Gavin stared at him incredulously. “Between you and Con... I’m five fuckin' nine!”

Hank chuckled warmly, holding his hands up in surrender. “I'm kidding, big guy.”

Gavin couldn’t help it as his own disbelieving laughter escaped him. He rubbed a tired hand down his face, giving a shaky sigh, taking a quick draw of the cigarette he'd almost forgotten. “Whatever, you fucking tree. Tell me we at least got a name from Jones.”

“Frank Miller.”

“Shit, really?” Gavin said, the humour leaving him. “He’s not our guy.”

“That's what Connor said. He was far too smug when he gave Miller's name, like he knew we'd have to accept it. Didn't seem right to me. Not that Simmons was bothered by that. He would have brought in the fucking Pope if Dillon had named him.” He looked up to the cloudy sky. “So, if he really isn't the guy, then it looks like you and Connor will be working together a little longer.”

Gavin's racing heart literally skipped a beat at the mention of Connor's name. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him.

Hank snorted. “Uh huh, I doubt he'll mind it much either.”

“We… work well together.” It was all he could think to say. “That such a surprise?”

“Yeah, it's a goddamn surprise,” he said, more to himself than to Gavin. He cleared his throat. “I won’t push this today, Reed. Not when you’ve had a gun to your head. Get back inside and grab your shit. I think you’ve earned the rest of the day off.”

He was right. Gavin needed to go home, but he definitely couldn't drive yet. Not until his body chilled the fuck out. “I just... need a coffee and some quiet.”

“Interrogation is free now."

Great. Worst room in the whole place.

"Anyway, I need to have a word with Fowler," Hank nodded down at him. "Don't stick around too long. Drink your coffee then go home. I mean it, Reed. Don't make me pull rank."

"Aye aye, sir," scoffed Gavin, giving him a lazy salute.

"Gavin."

"I'm fine, Hank," he said, offering a half-smile. "We train for this shit, right?"

"You've had guns pointed at you more than most, I'll give you that," the lieutenant scratched his head. "But this is different."

"It wasn't loaded-"

"You didn't know that," argued Hank. "And it's different because you really believed he was going to pull that trigger. Someone you know, who you used to be involved with. That's gonna mess with your head."

"I'm fine," he said again, hoping that Anderson didn't notice the slight tremor in his voice. Shit.

"Alright, alright. Do me a favour and go home anyway," Hank sighed, giving him one last look before stepping back inside. The door clattered off the brick behind him.

As soon as he was alone, Gavin let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, chucking his cigarette away and dropping his head into his shaking hands. 

He was fine. He was...

Letting out a furious growl, he slammed his fist into the concrete.

He was _fine_.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: Hell yeah, I'm fucking the android!  
> Boyd, pulling out a gun: ....  
> Gavin, slowly raising a middle finger: Still fucking him.
> 
>  
> 
>    
> I didn't want to end the chapter here, but there was nothing else I could do...  
> Also, writing chapters where they aren't together... it makes me inexplicably sad.
> 
> But I love writing this and I love all of you.  
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was impossible, but Connor could swear he felt the thirium running his biocomponents burn as the video played on, the men’s conversation turning to white noise.
> 
> Because Boyd had his hands on…
> 
> “Gavin...”
> 
> Connor watched as the vice detective drew a hidden weapon, pointing it right at him, pressing it into his-
> 
>  
> 
> _//Stress Level: Severe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos and comments give me life!! Thank you. Just, thank you.
> 
> So here we have - 
> 
> Connor erroring with emotions, Gavin sulking (that's fair, he's having a bad time), Hank losing it, and Fowler internally asking why he hasn't fired the three of them already...
> 
> Also, Sam <3

Chapter 23

“Right in the middle of the precinct! What the hell were you thinking?”

Connor twirled the purple pebble restlessly over his fingers before gripping it in his palm. “I was thinking-" 

“That was a rhetorical question!”

“Then why bother asking..." 

“Don't be a smartass, Connor,” the captain fumed, pointing a large finger at him. “You mind your damn tongue!”

Shit, when would it _end_?

They had been at this for the last twenty minutes, with Fowler getting progressively louder and more enraged, until his imposing frame was literally towering over his desk. 

Part of Connor wondered if the captain had simply missed taking his energy out on Hank or Gavin since they’d been out of the precinct. He was certainly making up for it now.

“One of the reasons I wanted you both partnered was so that your attitude would rub off on _him_!” he bellowed, rather needlessly since Connor was sitting right in front of him. “Not the other way around!”

Connor rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. 

“Did you just-”

“Sir, we’re going around in circles,” he said in frustration, shoving the stone back into his pocket. “Detective Simmons intentionally provoked me. The man is covering for Detective Boyd. That’s who you should have in here. Boyd is unstable and he clearly has an unhealthy fixation on Gavin-”

“Then you should have reported that directly to me instead of attacking a fellow detective!” Fowler scolded. He rubbed his forehead, sitting back down. “Boyd'd have to be a damn fool to try something under this roof.”

That’s what the captain was missing. Boyd absolutely _was_ a damn fool, and he was being driven by an utter _contempt_ for Gavin, the likes of which Connor hadn’t seen aimed at the human before (despite his incredible ability to rub almost everybody the wrong way).

“Listen, Connor,” Fowler interrupted his darkening train of thought. “You’re lucky Simmons came away unhurt, except for his damn pride, so unless he makes a complaint, which he _won't_ , this goes no further. But if I catch you going after anybody else, you won’t leave your desk for a year, do you understand me?”

Connor eyed the door impatiently. If Boyd had followed Gavin... 

“I understand you, sir,” he nodded swiftly, rubbing his hands together.

He needed to get out of this room. 

Gavin could easily take care of himself, if he wasn't so insistent on being an unbelievably stubborn idiot with a ridiculous moral code, and his unrivalled determination not to jeopardise his career was becoming increasingly hazardous to his health.

Why was he so drawn to a man this infuriating? Last week, he’d watched him put a man in the hospital, yell at the captain and shatter a cell phone because he was annoyed. Where was that unrestrained rage when he was being held by the neck by someone as offensively repulsive as Boyd? 

He took a cooling breath. Maybe Fowler was right, and he was just being paranoid. Maybe Gavin really had gone for a smoke. Maybe Boyd hadn't followed him-

“Goddamnit, Connor, pay attention!" Fowler snapped his fingers in front of his face. "I don't think you understand this at all. You need to toe the fuckin' line! If you start attacking humans left and right, what do you think will happen? The media is dying to get hold of a story about an android gone rogue and I'll be damned if that android is going to be you!”

Connor opened his mouth to argue but... shit. The man was right. 

As much as he hated it, with his position, his behaviour could even be used to judge other androids.

“I understand,” he said again, sincerely this time. "I acted... _rashly_ with Simmons. I'll do better to monitor my behaviour in future.”

“Good. That’s all I ask," Fowler sighed, leaning back heavily in his chair. "That aside, the case has progressed further in the last few days than it has in months, no doubt thanks to you and Reed. Dillon Jones' home is being searched and officers know to look at any abandoned factories they come across. Also,” he pointed at his screen, “Caleb has just instructed officers to pick up Frank Miller. It seems you've taken this as far as it can go.”

As far as...

“No,” Connor said, quickly sitting forward. “We'll never get a confession from Frank Miller. He may be collecting illegal weaponry, but there's no real evidence linking him to red ice. Dillon was lying. He said his name like it was amusing to him. Like it was a game. It's not him.”

Frank Miller might deserve some form of punishment for his black market guns, but he wasn't the one creating drugs marketed at teens and young people. He was sure of it.

“For the love of... tell me you're joking." He stared at Connor like he'd just sprouted a second head. "If not Frank, then who?"

Connor bit his lip. He had his suspicions but nothing concrete. “We could have missed someone. It’s only been a week, after all. And…” he sighed, already knowing how this was going to go. “There _is_ the possibility of Alexander Jones.”

Fowler looked at him grimly, tapping his fingers on his desk.

“I know,” Connor said hastily. “There is no physical evidence, and the rest could easily be attributed to Dillon working alone, but we have... a feeling about him.” 

“Not a single fingerprint, no DNA evidence belonging to the father,” Fowler shook his head, “but you have a feeling...” 

"Yes," stressed Connor, running his fingers through his hair. Fowler raised an eyebrow at the motion, and Connor quickly dropped his hand. "It's a feeling, but what if we're right? What if-"

Before he could make his case, as thin as it was, heavy footsteps climbed the short stairs to the office. The glass door was thrown open.

Hank stormed into the room, his face dark, immediately dropping several metallic objects on Fowler's desk. They rattled at the impact, two falling and rolling across the floor.

Bullets?

Why would Hank be carrying loose bullets?

“Three years, Jeff!” shouted Hank furiously, barely waiting for the door to close behind him. “Three _fucking_ years that asshole has been allowed to work after Reed handed in that report!”

“Hank!” Fowler returned, just as loudly. “You'd better get to your point quick, we're in the middle of something!”

Hank puffed out a breath, tossing his phone onto the desk and tapping it. “The cameras out back, where the officers sneak cigarettes, do they work?”

“The cameras?” he asked incredulously. The two men glared at each other for a second before Fowler gave in with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll bite. They’re temperamental at best. Nothing ever happens out there, they've not been upgraded in years.”

“I thought so. I just had to stand by and watch as Reed was...” he twirled his phone around, shoving it towards Fowler, looking physically sick. “Never felt so much like a fucking _spectator_ to something I should _never_ have been seeing!”

Fowler slid the phone over.

Whatever was playing fully caught his attention, his eyes widening.

Connor stood, easing slowly around the desk while the men were distracted.

“Son of a…” Fowler said, his voice laced with anger.

“Trust me, it gets worse. He was armed. Emptied the gun before he went outside, like that makes it fuckin’ better. Literally put the fear of death into him.” Hank shook his head in disgust, pointing at the phone. “I drew my own gun, Jeff. Was this close to putting a bullet in him... I don’t give a shit how much of a prick Reed can be, if I catch that vice asshole anywhere near him again, I’m taking the damn shot. Mark my fucking words. Why the fuck did nobody pay attention to that report?”

“Politics,” growled Fowler distractedly, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Boyd’s respected, in good with his captain. That, and, you know, they were _involved_. Boyd made it seem like it was all petty revenge for a bad breakup. I knew Reed was too proud for that shit but do you know how many toes he’s stepped on in the last decade? Most people were happy to believe that _he_ was the problem.”

It was impossible, but Connor could swear he felt the thirium running his biocomponents _burn_ as the video played on, the men’s conversation turning to white noise.

Because Boyd had his hands on…

“Gavin...”

Connor watched as the vice detective drew a hidden weapon, pointing it right at him, pressing it into his-

**_//Stress Level: Severe_ **

**_//G-G-Gavin Reed Priority Level: High-Hi-U-Unknown_ **

**_//Gav##: Error_ **

**_//Alert dismissed**_ **

“Where is he?” he asked quietly, his hands closing into fists at his sides.

“On his way to the hospital,” answered Hank, offhandedly, still marching in short paces at the side of the desk. “At least, he’d better be with the broken arm Reed gave him. And don't start, Jeff. He was threatening to kill him, spouting off about Connor too. This was self-defence. I’ve seen Reed take down a man twice his fucking size. The kid was controlling himself. In my opinion, Boyd’s lucky to still be breathing."

The captain shook his head. “I never thought he would be stupid enough to try something here.”

Connor stared at the two men, trying to make his vocal unit work again. “I didn’t mean Boyd-”

“Stupid? No. That guy's got a habit,” glowered Hank without hearing Connor, gripping his hip as he thumped a fist on the table. “I remember Reed's report said it was coke he was into, but the state he was in? This has to be red ice. I’ve seen it a million times. He can't stay on their case. Or any fucking case.”

Connor reached out, picking up one of the bullets. It shone in the stark light. 

**_//Gavin R-R##d Prior#ty L#vel: U-Unknownnn_ **

It slipped from his fingers, falling back onto the desk.

“He won't, Hank,” assured Fowler with clear determination, picking up the phone. “Trying this shit here... Goddamn idiot. We have routine fucking drug tests for a reason, how has he managed this long?”

“Scamming them,” snorted Hank, folding his arms. “Easy when you've got the right people in your pocket. Jeff, we’re not leaving this damn room until that prick is dealt with. I didn’t stand by and watch that fucking egotistical, alpha-male, iced-up _bullshit_ excuse of a detective fuck with one of our own for nothing. This is all the evidence we need, right here. Doesn’t matter how many friends he has, you can't charm your way outta that vid. He’s not getting away with it this time.”

"Hank!” Connor shouted, cringing as his voice echoed in the small room. 

Two sets of eyes locked onto him.

“Gavin.” He meant to say more but prompts were flooding his vision faster than he could dismiss them.

He couldn't _focus_.

“Interrogation, I think," Hank answered after a brief pause, exchanging glances with Fowler. "He said he wanted a coffee and some quiet. Made it clear he wanted to be alone-"

“He’s not alone,” Connor muttered, his fingers automatically touching the drawing on his stomach. “And this case is far from over.”

_//Gav#n is **not** alon#_

“Connor…” started Fowler.

“No, he’s right,” Hank said, and Connor’s attention flickered back to him, letting the words anchor him. “If Boyd is using red ice, then we need to make sure this shit is wrapped up tighter than tight.”

Fowler sighed, scratching his neck. “This already has ‘public relations nightmare’ written all over it.” He looked at Connor sternly. "Right. You’ll take the rest of today off. I mean it. Get Reed home, and make sure you both stay put. You can argue all you want but if I find out you’ve even stepped foot anywhere near the Jones residence, I’ll have you both on desk duty for the rest of your careers, you got that? Otherwise, you have two more days. But if Frank Miller confesses, it's done."

"Of course," Connor nodded distractedly, turning to the door.

"Con, just...” Hank looked at him with worried blue eyes. Connor could hear the words without them being spoken.

_Be careful and don’t do anything stupid._

*

Gavin twirled the silver gun in his hand.

The interrogation room was still the worst, but he had to admit there was something peaceful about being alone in it, even if he did get the eerie sense of being watched through the long two-way mirror. He’d already made sure the opposite room was empty. Nobody scheduled for another hour. 

He would have sat in the other room if it didn't stink of the remnants of Boyd's musky aftershave.

He took a breath, tensing his fist, his burst knuckles aching.

The catharsis of punching the ground had worn off quickly and he felt like more of a fucking idiot than ever, considering he’d come out of this confrontation with Boyd relatively unharmed.

_Unharmed._

That was one fucking word for it. 

He tossed the gun onto the steel table, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it to the floor, tugging anxiously at the loose collar of his t-shirt. He could only imagine what he must look like right now because he sure as fuck wasn't about to check his reflection in that huge mirror.

It _felt_ like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, then left in the hedge for four days and nights with no food, water or sleep, so…

Yeah, he was fucking exhausted, frustrated and he still couldn’t get his hands to stop fucking _shaking_.

He pulled himself up onto the table, holding his pounding head. None of this made any fucking sense.

When the fuck had Boyd upgraded to red ice? Did Simmons and Caleb know? Did they realise how fucked up that was, working a red ice case with a fucking user? Did they know he was high when he followed him out of the room? Did they know what he was planning to do-

His stomach turned so violently he had to swallow back the rising acid.

Maybe there wasn't a single memory of a time when Boyd had just held him, kissed him while passing by or any of that shit he'd heard was normal for other people in relationships, but how the fuck did the guy go from being someone he'd slept with to someone who had just threatened to murder him...

Gavin gripped his hair desperately, because he was dangerously close to feeling sorry for himself and he didn't have that fucking _right_. 

For fuck sake, he still felt the ghost of his _own_ gun in his hand, when he’d pointed it at the back of Connor’s head like a fucking coward.

And while Boyd had emptied his gun before coming outside, Gavin’s gun had definitely been fucking loaded.

He was just a selfish prick who had tried to murder the guy he was shameless enough to fall so hard for, to sleep with. Fuck, he was Connor's first...

He choked on the next wave of nausea that struck him.

He had no right to touch the android. Not after everything he had done to him. How he had treated him.

No fucking right.

He should let him go. Let him find someone else. Someone worthy of him. It wasn’t like they had spoken about what the fuck they were doing. Maybe it would be better if it was a one-time thing, just fucking... temporary insanity...

That's all this was...

_Fuck... no, it wasn't._

His grip tightened until his scalp hurt, because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fucking deny how much he wanted to be back in that stupid android's arms, or the anxious knot he felt in his stomach at the idea of not having him in his life.

But that wasn't fair.

Connor deserved better than him. Gavin? He'd fucking _earned_ being Boyd's plaything. He didn't deserve any better than that.

*

Connor hovered outside the door of the interrogation room, carefully holding a steaming hot, black coffee laden with far too much sugar.

It was a stupid thing to think about when all he wanted to do was to see him, but he needed to calm down. To focus.

Because for a second time this week, Gavin had been hurt by a person who, at one time, was supposed to care about him, and Connor had a part to play.

He should never have asked Gavin to leave the room. If he had kept him there, then maybe…

_//Error: Run diagnostic?_

No. His guilt was selfish, and the least important thing right now. He shoved it down as he rested his hand on the scanner, hearing the ding in response. The door opened. 

_//Gavin Reed: ???_

He was sitting on the cold, steel table with his back to the door, resting his feet on the chair. His t-shirt was tight over his back as he hunched, leaning his elbows on his knees, and his jacket was crumpled, discarded on the floor. 

But what caught Connor's attention was the faded silver gun on the table next to him. He recognised it from the video on Hank's phone.

The same gun that was-

**_//Ga###: Hi-Unkn###-Error detected**_**

“There's only one dipshit who would follow me into a room I've rage-walked into,” Gavin chuckled quietly. He didn't turn around.

As much as it was a relief just to hear his voice, Connor was at a loss.

He wanted to grab him, hold him, try to put the turmoil of emotions he felt into words-

“You broke Boyd's arm,” was what left his mouth.

His processors were broken. They had to be. That was the most unintelligent statement he had ever voiced out loud. Gavin knew what he'd done, he didn't need to state the obvious. It was the right thing to do, the smartest thing to do. He was proud of him for it.

Shit, what was wrong with him? Why was he tripping over his words like he was-

“You can't lecture me,” sang Gavin softly, with a false smugness, rubbing his arms like he was feeling a chill. “I heard you almost did the same to Simmons. I would’ve loved to have seen that.”

Connor’s hand itched as the heat from the coffee permeated through the cup.

“Look at me,” he uttered quickly, placing it on the floor to the side of the door. He didn't want to keep talking. He wanted to see him properly. He _needed_ to. “Please.”

Gavin sighed, staring at the opposite wall for a few seconds, before kicking the chair to the side. He stood, moving lazily to the edge of the table and slowly turning around, avoiding his gaze.

Connor's fury grew, and he immediately took note of every detail. 

The detective’s t-shirt was loose at the collar, like it had been stretched. The knuckles on one hand were burst. New bruising at his neck. A slight scrape running over his forehead, where Boyd had pressed the gun into- 

_//Gav##-_

Finally, Gavin looked up, and then quickly away again in clear discomfort, frowning frustratedly.

“What… what the fuck are you _doing_ here?” he snapped, in what seemed more like anxious confusion rather than anger. “With _me_. Really. Fuck, Connor. You shouldn’t be anywhere near... just fucking leave and go home. Back to Hank’s. Away from me. I don’t want…”

“You don’t want what?” Connor cautiously stepped forward, purposefully slow since Gavin was behaving like a wounded animal ready to run.

Gavin looked distraughtly around the bare room. “Just… just fucking…”

But as soon as Connor reached him, the man swore under a ragged breath, letting his head fall heavily to Connor's shoulder. 

Conner tentatively slid his arms around his warm shoulders, loosely at first, until Gavin gripped two desperate fists into his shirt. 

“You're such a fucking dumbass,” he hissed morosely, pushing his face into Connor's neck. “I hate you.”

“If you think I'm going anywhere, _you're_ the fucking dumbass.” Then Connor was squeezing him, holding him as close as possible. Because he’d barely _had him_. Because they hadn't had enough time, and he could have been gone. Ripped away from him by someone who wasn't good enough to breathe the same air as Gavin. 

Connor slackened one arm, only to slide his fingers into the detective's thick hair, turning his head to kiss his temple, twice, before pressing his face against him.

There was a slight, almost unnoticeable, tremor in the detective’s body, so he spread his embrace across his back, running a hand up and down, before loitering at the hem of his t-shirt. He wanted to touch him, his bare chassis to Gavin's skin, but he didn't-

Gavin groaned huffily, reaching behind him to take Connor's hand and slipped it under his t-shirt himself. “You're always allowed to touch me, you idiot,” he muttered. “Not gonna bite you.”

Connor wanted to laugh at that, wanted to remind him of all the literal bites on his neck, but his voice was stolen by the immediate relief of his naked fingers running over the expanse of strong muscles and tanned skin, so real and perfect and _alive_.

He tugged him even closer, and Gavin almost tripped into him, giving a soft sigh with a hint of a dry laugh. “How are you doing this?”

Connor could barely comprehend the words. “Doing what?”

Without lifting his head, he rested the back of his hand over Connor's, which was now snuggled safely under the man’s t-shirt.

“This,” he said, his breath hot against Connor’s neck. “You touch me, and everything... It all feels... Doesn't make any fucking sense... Fuck, is this a superpower? Or some kind of elaborate prank? This has all been a joke and you’re going to turn around and laugh at the precinct android-hater, aren't you? I mean, I wouldn’t fucking blame you, but it would be a pretty shitty move.”

Connor actually laughed then, although it was short and strained. He wondered how Gavin even functioned when his jumbled mind jumped from raw emotion to raw emotion, idea to idea.

“It's not a prank or a superpower, I promise,” he said, closing his eyes. How could it be, when he felt it to? He rested his forehead against Gavin's hair, running his fingers gently over his naked back. “And I’m starting to think you might not hate androids, although it's just a suspicion. A tiny one.” He heard the man snort, and Connor smiled warmly. “Well, no more than you hate humans anyway. So, why don't I take you home. Fowler’s giving us today off. Or he threatened us with today off… doesn’t matter. Cartoons and beer?”

Finally, Gavin pulled back. Someone else might have mistaken the heaviness in his eyes for tears, but Connor was sure it would take a lot more than a gun to his head to elicit that reaction. The man was just utterly exhausted. “You better fucking mean that, barbie.”

Connor brought his hand up to cup Gavin's face, hating the flinch that he was certain the detective hadn't even realised he'd given.

“You're shaking,” he said softly, stroking his cheek.

“Yeah, well, some asshole threatened to murder me while I was trying to have a smoke,” chuckled Gavin, leaning into his touch. “I'm fine. The whole thing was just a twisted fucking joke and...” A heavy groan left him, and he dropped his head to Connor's shoulder again, lowering his voice to barely more than a whisper. “I can't stop it. But you, this... it’s fucking helping.”

His voice betrayed a deep vulnerability that Connor had never heard from him before. He pulled him closer, his hand pressing on the small of his back. “He’s never going to touch you again.”

Gavin scoffed, nuzzling his forehead against Connor's neck. “The guy is a demon, Con. Can't kill a demon.”

A demon? No. That gave him too much power.

“Gavin, he's just a man-"

“He's not a fucking _man_.” His fists clenched into Connor’s shirt. “He's the ghost of the worst decision I ever made. He'll be haunting me for the rest of my life and he fucking should.”

_//Gavi# #### Stress Level: H###_

“Okay, he's not a man,” he conceded. “But he's not a demon or a ghost. He's nothing but a cockroach, and cockroaches can be crushed.” He meant every word. Boyd was going to pay for this.

Gavin lifted his head again, glaring at him. “Don’t you fucking dare, Con. Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking right now. It's not worth it.”

Connor simply stared back, because the decision was already-

“Connor!” Gavin said, raising his voice. “I’m fucking serious! You’re not going to do a fucking thing. What would happen if you got caught? I can't...”

“I won't get caught-” he tried to explain.

“Really? Would you bet your life on that? Because I fucking won't.” His stormy eyes bore into him, his fingers tightening. “Shit, I can't fucking believe I'm asking this but, promise me you won't murder my ex. Or make him ‘disappear’, whatever the fuck that means. Just... promise me.”

He couldn’t promise that. If Boyd cornered Gavin alone again, who's to say his gun wouldn’t be loaded-

_//Gavin R### Stress Lev#l: S#vere_

“Con, you fucking...” Gavin groaned, pressing his head into Connor's chest. 

Why did the man have to make everything so difficult?

_//Prom#se_

“Fine,” huffed Connor in defeat, resting his cheek against his hair. “I promise not to make him disappear. But if-"

“No fucking ‘buts’,” Gavin muttered. “Doesn’t matter now anyway. Probably won't see him for a while. Heard you got a name out of Dillon.”

Connor tutted, running his hand down Gavin’s body and pinching his hip lightly. “Frank Miller? You know it's not him. Besides, Fowler has given us two more days. I’m sure that’s plenty of time for us to find the real guy.” He rubbed a thumb over his waist. “Or at least cause some more trouble.”

“Two more days,” he chuckled wryly. “If this doesn’t end with both of us on the wrong side of this table, I’ll be fucking shocked.”

He was probably right about that. 

“We're clever,” he smiled, kissing Gavin's hair affectionately. “We could get away with anything.”

“Anything?” Gavin glanced up, looking cheekily around the room. “Because I could use some comfort right now.” His eyes flickered to Connor's mouth.

Unbelievable. Raw emotion to raw emotion, idea to idea...

“At work, in the only room with a two-way mirror?" laughed Connor. "Are you serious?"

“Deadly,” grinned Gavin, taking hold of his chin and bringing him forward. Connor's hand tightened across his back, their lips barely touching...

_Knock. Knock._

Connor sighed frustratedly. “Really...” 

Gavin dropped his hands and reluctantly put some distance between them. “What?” he barked loudly.

The door opened, and Officer McCready poked his head through the small gap. “Apologies for the interruption. Mr Jones and his nephew are here, until their home is finished being searched. It shouldn’t be long. Detective Boyd was supposed to be here but I can’t find him so… I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you,” said Connor appreciatively. “We’ll be out soon.”

McCready gave a swift nod and left them alone.

Gavin ran a hand through his hair as soon as the door shut. “Shit, where the fuck did I leave that sling? If we’re going to carry this on then-”

“I don't want to offend you," Connor chuckled teasingly, "but we are past the point of you needing a sling to look like you're on medical leave. You might actually qualify now.”

Gavin narrowed his eyes at him. “Gee, thanks.”

"Sorry." Connor reached out to touch his bruise gently. This time, the man didn’t flinch. “I'd still happily take you to bed,” he winked. “Delicately, of course.”

"Would you?" Gavin laughed, knocking his hand away, but then his smile faltered as he rubbed his damaged knuckles. He swallowed, shaking his head. “Con... do you really want... after all that shit..." He gave a heavy sigh. "Never mind."

Connor frowned. "Gavin-"

"We should go,” Gavin said quickly, lifting his jacket and pulling it on. His eyes fell to the coffee on the floor, and he smiled. "Guess I'll take this off the list," he muttered, as he picked it up and opened the door.

Connor wanted to stop him, throw him against the wall and kiss him until his lips were red and puffy, until he _knew_ exactly what the last week had meant to him, but... Gavin had been manhandled enough today.

He didn’t want to make whatever was going through the detective’s head worse, and he couldn’t handle seeing him flinch at his touch again.

*

As soon as they left the room, they were confronted by the hustle and bustle of the busy precinct. But even amidst the chaos, Connor spotted Sam.

The boy looked so out of place, huddled at McCready’s desk, drawing fervently in his notebook. His dark blond curls almost covered his eyes, which darted suspiciously around the room whenever someone got too close. He was holding his pencil at an awkward angle and Connor remembered how he was thrown to the ground in the alley the night before. After everything that had happened, he must be exhausted.

But apparently not exhausted enough to miss Connor as he stood by the breakroom, waiting on Gavin making himself a fresh coffee after downing the first on the way. Sam immediately dropped the pencil, as if in a daze, and pushed his chair away, wandering towards him.

Connor smiled as he approached, but Sam looked miserable.

**_//Sam G#rcia Stress L#vel: H#gh_**

“Connor, I-I’m sorry,” he burst out as soon as he reached him, scratching his bruised cheek a little too hard. “I'm so sorry. It was all my stupid fault, that stupid stun gun was in my backpack, I should have realised why he wanted it, it just happened so fucking quickly, but I shouldn’t have let it. I was stupid and you got hurt and-”

“Sam, it's okay,” he said, stopping the boy’s rambling apology. "Come here." He took his hand from his face and guided him to the breakroom, empty except for Gavin, who was already gulping down a few mouthfuls of what had better be decaf. The man didn’t need to be in shock, full of sugar _and_ jittery from caffeine. 

Sam rubbed his sleeves over his tired eyes, as Connor knelt in front of him. He took the chance to scan him. “You have absolutely nothing to apologise for. You stayed and tried to protect me. That was incredibly brave of you. If anybody is to blame, it was me for not paying attention to what you were trying to tell me.”

Sam shook his head, digging his nails into his neck before hurriedly wrapping his arms around Connor’s shoulders. “I’m still sorry, and when I see Dillon again, I’m going to kick his ass for doing that to you.”

Connor returned the hug, feeling a warmness at the child’s words, running a hand up and down Sam’s hoodie-covered back. His eyes found Gavin, who was watching them with a small smile on his face, his heartrate noticeably decreasing.

_//Backup Image Saved**_

“Alright, alright,” the detective said at last. “If you two are done deciding whose fault this is, who wants a hot chocolate? The machine doesn't spit out marshmallows, but it’ll do.”

“Gavin!” exclaimed Sam, just noticing his presence. Connor stood up as the boy jumped from him and threw himself into Gavin, squeezing his waist for a few seconds before glancing up with a frown. “You look even worse than before. Did Dillon do that after I left? I’ll kick his ass twice as fucking hard, I swear!”

Combing his fingers through the mess of curls, Gavin chuckled. “One, watch your fucking language, and two, no. Dillon didn’t make this worse. Someone else did. An old friend.”

“Someone you were friends with did that?” asked Sam in disbelief. “What an asswipe.”

Gavin looked at Connor in amusement. 

“I couldn’t agree more, Sam,” smirked Connor, aiming for the coffee machine, giving the detective some time with him. “How about that hot chocolate then? How are your hands?”

“Yes please,” he nodded eagerly, before letting go of Gavin and rolling his hoodie sleeves up, checking out his palms. “They’re fine. Mrs Walsh cleaned them up this morning.”

“Mrs Walsh?” Gavin asked with a frown. “You… didn’t go home last night?”

Connor turned back, watching Sam’s cheeks flush as he looked away, his lips pressed shut. Last night, Gavin had shouted at him to get someplace safe. If he didn’t go home, then…

“N-no. I didn’t want to wake up my uncle,” Sam said, nervously rolling down his sleeves and hiding his hands inside them. “Ben’s a friend. I feel safe with him, that’s all. His mom is sometimes a bit mean but she’s always out late so I can sneak in whenever I want… she did fix my hands though-“

“Sam!”

Sam immediately backed away from the door, and Gavin wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders as Sandy Jones spotted them through the glass, marching in, followed closely by an apologetic-looking Officer McCready.

Tall and thin, his whitening blond hair was dishevelled. He was impeccably dressed, in beige jeans and a pale blue shirt, but gone was the calm, charming man they’d met at the party. 

This man was furious. “There you are. Get your stuff. We’re leaving.”

“Sir,” started McCready, clearly at the end of his patience. “I still need you to check the inventory of items removed from your home.”

“You said we were free to go,” snapped Sandy, pointing a bony finger at the officer. 

“You were never not free to go, sir,” McCready said. “You just couldn’t return home while the detectives were searching it. They’ve finished now so-”

“The search is finished already?” asked Gavin, his arm still secure around Sam. “That was fast.”

Sandy’s attention flew to him and he strode forward, tugging Sam away from him. “There was nothing to find. Why would there be? This entire thing is a waste of time. Sam, get your stuff. I won’t ask again.”

Sam nodded obediently, leaving the room.

“You think this is a waste of time?” snarled Gavin, as soon as Sam was out of earshot. “Your son was caught selling drugs in a club you used to manage. He used a stun gun on my partner.”

“Ah, yes.” Sandy glanced sideways, his narrowed eyes locking on his LED. “Looks fine to me. Couldn’t have been that bad.” He took an irritated breath. “Dillon lost his mother because of someone just like you. You can’t blame him for being a little skittish around your sort.”

“A little skittish?” Gavin took a dangerous step forward, and Connor slid a hand onto his shoulder, squeezing it hard. They already knew about his dislike of androids from Shauna, but hearing it was unsettling, and Gavin was already on edge.

“Dillon lost his mother in a car accident after a drunk driver drifted into their lane,” Connor said calmly. “Someone like me pulled your nephew out before it could kill him too.”

Sandy glared at him as Sam wandered back into the room, clutching his notebook. 

“Then I suppose I should feel grateful,” he sneered, pulling the boy close to him so hard he almost tripped. The detective’s heartrate spiked at the action. “Where are the other detectives?”

McCready spoke up. “Simmons went with the officers to your home. Caleb is picking up a suspect and Boyd… he's supposed to be here but-”

“He’s busy,” said Gavin darkly, never taking his eyes from Sandy. 

“Well then, I believe we’re done here.” Sandy gave them both a strained smile, gripping Sam at the back of the neck, much to the boy's annoyance. “Come on.”

Sam gave them one last look, biting his lip, and Connor knew, he just _knew_ , that this was the look that Tina and Gavin had described earlier. The look a child gave when he wanted to say more but couldn’t.

“That game we were talking about,” Connor said quickly, following them out the door. “The one on your phone. You said there was a way to-”

“Three greens.” Sam turned back, recognition in his eyes. “I remember.”

“It always works. Always,” nodded Connor, turning to Sandy. “Take care, Mr Jones.”

Sandy tutted, muttering something about androids under his breath as McCready led them away. 

“The game on your phone?” Gavin said, coming up behind him. “You're clever, you know that?”

“That man is hiding something,” said Connor, folding his arms.

“Yeah, well, what the fuck are we going to do about it?” Gavin scoffed, tiredly. “How the fuck are we supposed to make sure that kid is alright? That his uncle isn't as tied up in this shit as his cousin is? He just gets to walk out of here when he could be... This is a fucking mess. This entire fucking day has been one shitty thing after another. And Fowler's giving us two more days? What difference is that going to make?”

Connor turned to face him.

Painful exhaustion had returned to the detective's face. His eyes were heavy, and dark with defeat. Between Boyd threatening his life and more questions than answers about Sandy and Sam, Connor could understand that. They couldn’t do anything for Sam at the moment, not until they gathered the information from today, and Boyd…

_'He’s a demon, Con.'_

Boyd was definitely _not_ a demon. Connor would never give him that much credit. He meant it when he said that Boyd was nothing more than a cockroach, and he needed to find a way to help Gavin remember that.

“You’re right. This has been a shitty day. Fowler has ordered us to take the rest of it off and I think that’s a good idea,” he said firmly. “We need a break so we can actually think. Everything will have settled down by the morning and hopefully, by that time, we’ll have a plan.”

* 

As soon as Gavin unlocked the door, he went straight up the stairs. The car journey was too quiet, his mind was too jumbled, and he just wanted to get out of his fucking ruined t-shirt.

His mind kept replaying the sight of Sam being pulled away by his uncle. His gut told him something was wrong. Sam's demeanor told him something was wrong. Everything about that conversation set his suspicions alight.

Usually this would have him energised, trying to get to the bottom of it no matter what but... this situation was different. It wasn't about a case anymore. It was about a kid who'd lost his parents and had spent the last few years stuck in a nightmare. If they dove in head first, it could be a disaster.

Connor was right. They needed time to breathe. For today at least, Sandy and Sam were going to be surrounded by officers and detectives. Sam would be safe.

He pulled on a clean, undamaged t-shirt and shorts, and headed back downstairs, gracelessly collapsing face first on the couch. 

The stupid android was also right when he had told him he couldn’t do his job effectively running on fumes. If they wanted to do this right, they needed to be clever, and he wasn't feeling very clever right now.

In fact, with the crazy amount of information they had learned today, he felt like he was about to lose his fucking mind.

“Gavin?”

"Fuck, Connor!"

He didn’t hear him approach, but there he was, in all his handsome glory, a mug of hot coffee in his hand, as Gavin's heart tried to escape his chest.

“You should drink something," he said, holding out the mug. "And maybe have some food. Is there… anything I can make you?”

Gavin snorted, imagining the kickass android stirring pasta or boiling an egg. It seemed bizarre. “You cook?”

“No, not exactly…” Connor answered uneasily, putting the coffee on the table and rubbing his hands together. “I don’t eat so I can’t exactly taste the results. Except for the chemical components, but I don’t think that’s the same. Following a recipe sounds easy enough and I’d like to try…”

That was fucking adorable. 

“Get down here, barbie,” he sighed, pushing himself against the back of the couch. Connor raised him eyebrow with a soft smile, before lying down next to him, an arm sliding around Gavin’s waist.

That warmth...

“I could easily make something-”

“Shh…” hushed Gavin, bringing Connor closer. “So, do things ‘taste’ good or bad to you? Chemical-wise?”

Brazen as ever, Connor leaned in, gently licking Gavin's upper lip, before resting his forehead against him. “Yes,” he said quietly.

It didn’t matter how tired he was, there was no way he could resist that.

“Connor,” muttered Gavin, sliding his fingers through the android's soft hair and pulling him into a slow kiss. 

Connor’s hand slipped under his t-shirt, spreading over his lower back, holding him so fucking carefully... 

He moaned into it, relaxing at the touch… into Connor’s embrace, letting their limbs tangle lazily….

He… tasted so good… so good… so…

Gavin woke with a start to the sound of someone coming in the front door. Gizmo gave a surprised chirp from Gavin’s chest, his sharp nails digging unpleasantly into his skin.

When the fuck had he fallen asleep? 

The sun was still up, so he couldn’t have been out for long.

Connor wandered into the living room, fresh-faced and bright-eyed, as Gavin tried to blink himself back into reality. 

The android had changed into his pale blue t-shirt, with a heavy rucksack on his back. “Good. You're awake. Get dressed.”

Gavin groaned, pulling the cushion out from under his head and holding it over his face. “Nope. Not in the mood,” he said, his voice muffled. “We agreed on beer and cartoons. Don't need to be dressed for that.”

That was all he wanted. Even if it was really just an excuse to wallow after the day from hell and contemplate the rest of his existence as Boyd's plaything while worrying about what the fuck was happening with Sam.

Suddenly, Gizmo’s weight left his chest and the cushion was jerked away from him, before he was hit in the face with it. “Comfortable jeans and a hoodie. I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed your car earlier. And don't worry about beer. I already packed it, along with a few other… _essentials_.” Connor pointed his thumb to the rucksack, as Gizmo rubbed his nose into his cheek. “But I’m afraid the cartoons will have to wait.”

Gavin's stomach fluttered when he spotted the black hoodie he had let Connor borrow after his bath tied snugly around his hips. Fuck, he was the cutest-

Wait, packed?

“Con, what are you talking about?” Was he still asleep? 

Connor wiggled his hand in front of him and, reluctantly, Gavin took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet and unceremoniously shoved towards the stairs.

“A taxi will be here in fifteen minutes. Although we should probably walk some of the way,” said Connor thoughtfully, still cuddling into Gizmo. “Make sure your hoodie is warm. I don't know how long we'll be out.”

Gavin groaned again because, great. His curiosity was well and truly peaked. 

“Will you at least tell me where we're going?”

He turned around to see Connor staring at him, his LED spinning a lively blue, with that _mischievous_ fucking look on his face. 

“I have a surprise for you.”

Why did all the hairs on Gavin's neck raise at that?

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: I'm the worst human being on the planet. I don't deserve a fucking thing.  
> Connor: Cartoons and beer?  
> Gavin: ... yes please, you absolute angel.
> 
>    
> Gavin's feeling pretty low :( not himself at all. No energy, dwindling hope...
> 
> But a surprise? I mean, that could be anything from a visit to a kitten cafe to Boyd's corpse floating in a puddle of his own making...
> 
> It's neither of those things, but both would be awesome.
> 
>  
> 
> I just want some fluff now. Beautiful, sweet fluff. They've earned it, haven't they?
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was odd that this area wasn’t used anymore. It was actually a nice little place. The buildings were lined with decorative stone pillars, and it was out of sight from the main road. He could imagine the stalls that used to set up during the day, selling whatever it was-
> 
> “Con, what the fuck is this?”
> 
> Ah, yes. His terrible idea.
> 
> He hoped this wasn’t going to make everything worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is low, Connor tries to make him feel better but his emotions get the better of him :(
> 
> Super emotions, super truths, but mostly getting some super comfort and maybe some super sexy time.
> 
> And a wee bit of trouble, because they are magnets for it.
> 
> Gavin, after the last few chapters, you deserve some attention, be cool.

Chapter 24

“Con, how much further?”

“Not much.”

“You’ve been saying that for the last twenty minutes.”

“I'm aware.” Because Gavin had been asking every thirty seconds of those twenty minutes...

He knew the man got bored easily but this was ridiculous. 

Still, he refused to give it away. He didn’t know how Gavin was going to react, so playing it safe was the best option.

“Wait a second,” came the detective’s deep, curious voice. “I know this place. This is where the weird old market used to be. I haven’t been out here since I was a fucking rookie, chasing away some partying kids.”

“It’s been empty for quite some time.”

The ‘old market’ was deserted, two-story buildings surrounding a large square with two defunct water fountains at the centre. Anything that wasn’t nailed to the ground inside had already been stolen, and any teenagers looking to drink were finding somewhere nearer to home.

Secluded and quiet. It was perfect.

“What are we doing here?” asked Gavin, sounding more suspicious than bored now.

_//Positivenegativepositivenegativepositivenegative-_

“Just… wait,” answered Connor. He tugged the rucksack further over his shoulder, trying to calm his doubts.

He wasn't worried about getting caught. He had hacked the taxi coming over, ditching it at a cafe on the way just to be safe. No need to drive it straight into the scene of what was _technically_ a crime.

This was definitely one of his riskier plans. The probability of it ending well was slim but he had to try something.

He couldn’t let the detective sit and stew, his racing mind going over every bad thing that had happened that day. It was obvious how much the confrontation with Boyd and watching Sam and Sandy leave had affected him. 

“Con-”

“We're here,” he said, biting his lip uneasily as they walked up the slightly rising entrance to the large square. “After you.”

Gavin took the lead, staring around the enclosed area. “This place hasn’t changed a… a…”

Connor followed him as he wandered through. 

It was odd that this area wasn’t used anymore. It was actually a nice little place. The buildings were lined with decorative stone pillars, and it was out of sight from the main road. He could imagine the stalls that used to set up during the day, selling whatever it was-

“Con, what the fuck is this?”

Ah, yes. His terrible idea. 

He hoped this wasn’t going to make everything worse.

*

Gavin’s eyes widened at the sight in front of him. The place seemed bigger than when he’d last been here. After the businesses vacated the buildings, the front was taken over by stalls, but even that had stopped. Now, not even kids used this spot. The two fountains stood empty of water, but it was what was in between them that had him gaping.

“This is Boyd's car,” Gavin said, going around the side to check the plate. The creepy bumper sticker of a clown riding a bull was there on the back, just like he remembered. He sniffed the air around it. “Smells weird.”

A suspicious chuckle left the android, and Gavin turned around in time to see him shaking out a thick blanket near a wall, not too far from the car. He didn’t have the mental capacity to think about _that_ right now.

“He calls it a ‘nineties classic’,” he said absently. “Boyd loves this cheap piece of shit. Haven’t seen it in a long time. What’s it doing here?”

He hadn’t heard Connor come up behind him, but his slim arms slid hesitantly around his waist. “He… left it at a bar. I didn’t want him drinking and driving so I took it.”

“You ‘took’ it?” repeated Gavin sceptically, pushing Connor’s arms away and turning around. “You mean you stole it.”

“Yes,” admitted Connor, slipping his hands into his jeans and looking away awkwardly. “I stole it, but what we do with it is up to you.”

Gavin looked back to the car, sniffing the air again. That smell… it couldn’t be. “Just spit it out, Connor. What’s your plan?”

“We can ditch it here or somewhere else,” he answered, his full attention returning to Gavin. “Or... we could burn it.”

“Fucking lighter fluid!” he exclaimed, suddenly realising what he was smelling, and why. “Con, what the actual fuck?”

“You only said not to make _him_ disappear,” the android said simply. “You didn’t say anything about his car.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” he shook his head, staring back at the familiar vehicle.

“I…” started Connor, his LED spinning yellow. “If Hank gets his way, he won’t be a problem at work anymore, or at least not for a while. I don't want your last interaction to be him making you believe you were going to die. That’s unforgivable, but this? This is just a bit of fun.”

“I think we need to work on your definition of fun,” muttered Gavin, disbelievingly. “How many crimes are we going to commit this week?”

“It's replaceable, you are not,” shrugged Connor. “This is barely a crime...”

“Then we need to work on your definition of a crime too!” 

Fuck, he was so angry! This had to be the most stupid thing the android had done. He should have known he wasn’t going to let Boyd get away with it, but this was just…

“Let me explain,” Connor said quickly, reaching out and taking his hands, his concerned, brown eyes staring into his. “He keeps trying to drag you down into his darkness and you don’t want to follow him. I understand that. So, let’s not. Instead, yes, let's have some fun. Because he's not a demon or a ghost or anything close to that. He's just a man. An idiot who left his keys in his car while it was parked in front of a bar.”

Have some fun… at the expense of the guy who threatened to kill him…

“Connor, you’re supposed to be fucking smart! You actually want us to mess with him?”

“He’s only dangerous because you’re letting him _be_ a danger!” argued Connor. “You keep giving him your time and attention. He doesn’t deserve-”

Gavin scowled, shaking off Connor's hands and taking a step back. “I don't give him my fucking attention!”

“You are giving him your attention every time you won't hit back!” snapped Connor suddenly. “I’ve fought you, I’ve seen you fight others, you are more than capable of stopping him but instead all you’re doing is making yourself an easy target for no reason!”

“I have a fucking reason! We used to sleep together,” he growled, pacing. “I’m not gonna be like him. What the fuck do you know about it anyway?”

“I don't,” sighed Connor in frustration, running his fingers through his soft hair. “You could never be like him, and that’s not what I’m asking, but I'm here, watching from the side-lines and I hate it. I hate what I saw him do to you-"

“Saw?” Fuck no. He thought Anderson had relayed the information, not that he’d fucking watched on the cameras. 

“Yes,” he answered, quietly. “Hank filmed it on his phone. The cameras out there don't work properly. He wanted the evidence to back up what you said in your report, to make sure he didn’t get away with it this time.”

His nausea returned, swirling in the pit of his stomach, thinking of what Boyd did being etched into Connor’s memory. “You saw...”

The android looked him dead in the eye. “All I saw was you letting Boyd walk all over you. _Again_.”

Gavin froze. “What the fuck did you just say?” he snarled, rounding on him and grabbing his t-shirt. “You want to try that again, dipshit?”

“No.” Connor petulantly folded his arms, staring at him without a shred of fear. “I don't. You could have easily stopped him, long before he pulled out a gun. What will it take for you to protect yourself? Because every time you choose not to fight back, all you’re doing is protecting him!”

“I'm not protecting him!” He dropped his arms weakly. 

Of course he wasn’t fucking protecting him. Why would he be?

Connor eyes darted between his. “Not on purpose but-"

“I broke his arm! Would I have done that if I was protecting him? He threatened to kill you! He wanted to fucking… save you for Dillon, or some shit. I couldn’t…” Fuck. He rubbed his eyes, his head ready to burst.

“Gavin,” said Connor, taking a step towards him. Gavin countered with a step back. “Why is it okay to protect me from him and not yourself?”

“Fuck off, Connor,” he spat, kicking the tire of Boyd's car. 

“Just answer me.”

“You wanna know why? Because I fucking deserve it! He’s a violent, self-obsessed asshole,” he shouted, shoving Connor out of his space, “and how am I any different? For fuck sake, I tried to shoot you! I came so close to killing you! What makes me any better than him? I walked into that fucking relationship. That was my choice, a decision I fucking made.”

He shoved at Connor again, with barely enough malice to knock him a step back.

“So this is some form of self-inflicted punishment?” Connor asked incredulously, LED spinning a furious yellow. “Gavin, listen to yourself, or better yet, _stop_ listening to yourself and listen to me! You are nothing like him! You don't deserve any of this, nobody does! I don't know much about relationships, but I'm certain you’re supposed to go into them with love and trust. Deceit and violence? That’s _not_ what you chose.”

“Love and trust...” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head self-deprecatingly. “Come on, Con.”

“You really believe you don't deserve that...” muttered Connor, reaching out to touch his arm. Gavin dodged him, and Connor's hand fell. “Isn't that what relationships are based on?”

“Not that one...” he swallowed, scratching the scrapes on his neck. One thing he knew for certain was that there was no love or trust in his relationship with Boyd. Maybe at the start there could have been, but that fantasy had faded quickly. 

His answer must have sparked something in Connor, because suddenly the android was moving towards him.

“If there was no love in your relationship, then why are you defending it?” His eyes bore into his with emotion so strong, they held Gavin transfixed, the LED on his temple flashing yellow and red. “Every single time you let him get away with hurting you, you are giving him a special place in your life. Making him someone important. You are validating, _legitimising_ , a relationship that, by your own admission, was violent and hateful!”

Defending it…

Was he?

Gavin blinked back at him, slowly shaking his head once more and rubbing his burst knuckles. “That's not... I'm not...”

Holy fuck... _was that what he was doing?_

“It is!” stressed Connor, his LED now spinning a solid red. “You won’t hurt him because you don’t want to behave violently towards someone you've been intimate with, and that is admirable, but you’re not sleeping with him anymore, and what you had before barely qualifies as a relationship in my eyes. I know I wasn't there and I don't know anything about what you had together but... but it's just... 

“It’s fucking stupid!” he blurted out, his usual cool and calm composure out the window. “You were so close to being gone today and you would have let him take you! Perhaps I’m being selfish, and I don't really know what this is, but I don't want it to go away, and that's exactly what will happen if you let him put a bullet in your head!”

The outburst stalled Gavin's brain for a few seconds.

_This?_

Connor didn't want to lose...

Holy fucking shit…

This.

Boyd hurting him... was hurting Connor?

“Con...” he started, reaching out, but this time, Connor backed away angrily.

“Is your past relationship with Boyd worth giving up your entire life? Your fucking sanity? Because that is what he is asking for and I refuse to let that happen! He's revelling in the attention you’re giving him. He loves hurting you because he knows you won’t fight back. Gavin, you've made me promise not to make him disappear but I will break that promise if you won’t agree to protect yourself. I'd rather see you alive and refusing to talk to me ever again, than dead and... and gone forever.”

His LED began pulsing a dangerous red, his voice crackling. Fuck, the android was _panicking_.

He was here, now, fucking begging him not to let some prick who meant less than nothing take him away, and Gavin had been so focused on his damn pride.

Was it really worth it?

“Con-"

Connor grabbed his shoulders, looking at him in a mixture of anger, frustration and desperation. “I won’t let you risk your life because you’re stupid enough to feel bad about trying to hurt me either! It’s your turn to make _me_ a promise. Promise me that you will kick his ass the next time he grabs you, throws you against a wall or puts a... a gun to your head. Because if he's the reason I lose you after just finding whatever _this_ is, all promises are off. I will not hold back!"

“Con!” he shouted, trying to get his attention, but the android seemed unable to stop, words pouring from him.

“No! The only demon that exists is the one inside your head, telling you that you’re not worth-"

“Oh, for fuck-" 

Gavin took hold of Connor’s face, kissing him into silence, because he was certain his LED was going to spin off of his temple. He expected to be pushed away, but the android made a soft noise, going completely still, and Gavin let himself be momentarily impressed by his ability to surprise him.

He pulled away, eyes flickering between his, gently touching the LED as it spun in a flurry of yellow and red. “Okay.”

Connor blinked, finding his words again. “Okay?”

“You win,” chuckled Gavin, kissing his temple and pulling Connor towards him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Didn’t know you cared so much, dipshit.”

“Fuck you,” muttered Connor, gripping hold of his waist, pressing his face into the crevice of his neck. “You’re so fucking stupid. I win? Why is everything a competition to you?”

“Because usually I’m the winner,” Gavin grinned. He combed his fingers through Connor’s hair, hoping he would find the motion soothing. “But, fuck it, you're right. I’ve never thought about it like that. Choosing not to fight back, I’ve been making what Boyd and I had important, _real_. But it wasn’t. Not even close.”

And it only took Connor shouting those words at him to get it through his thick skull. 

He really was fucking stupid.

“Love and trust… that never existed between him and me. Whatever we had, it wasn't a relationship. Not really.” Saying it out loud, a wave of relief flooded him and he realised just how right Connor was. He'd been holding that relationship on a pedestal, but it wasn't special. It was nothing, not compared to... Gavin cleared his throat. “Maybe it's time I stop seeing him as an ex, and just as an asshole.”

“A _massive_ asshole,” Connor mumbled against his neck, finally relaxing into the embrace.

“A massive asshole,” he repeated softly, smirking. “I promise, if he ever tries anything again, I'll fight back. So just, don't go self-destructing on me, alright? Not over him.”

Connor pulled back, his cheeks flushed blue, still looking like he literally wanted to shake some sense into him. “Then you can't either. You’re not the only person who has ever pulled their weapon out on me. If anyone is going to punish you for that, it’s me. I don’t want to see his hands on you again, touching you, hurting you. I can’t…” 

His LED slipped back into red and Gavin knew it was inappropriate but the biggest smile came over his face.

Connor really fucking cared about him. He already knew that, on some level, but seeing it like this, knowing the android wanted him safe... 

That he didn't want Gavin to throw _this_ away...

_This._

He felt like a fucking teenager, butterflies swarming in his stomach.

He almost didn't believe it, because it felt so fucking _unbelievable_.

But he had no clue how to articulate all of that so... “You're really fucking cute when you’re furious, you know that?”

Yeah, smooth.

Connor’s eyes flashed to his, narrowing. “I'm going home,” he said bluntly.

He made to leave but Gavin was too fucking happy to let that happen. He tugged him back easily, squeezing him close, planting a kiss against his neck. “Oh, really? You don’t want to see me burn this shitty car to ash?”

Connor paused, looking behind him to the car. “I do…” he said huffily. “I really, really do.”

“Now who's the caveman?” teased Gavin, giving Connor’s ass a pinch to break the tension, ignoring the annoyed tut in response. “Did you bring matches or do you want me to rub two sticks together?”

“I hate you,” murmured Connor, shoving him away and heading to the rucksack. 

“You love me,” grinned Gavin, repeating Connor’s own words from the alley the night before back to him. “Can’t deny that now. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this angry at me. Be honest, a month ago, you would have paid to see me get my ass kicked.”

“The day is still young,” retorted Connor, pulling out a box of long matches. He tossed them to Gavin. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can easily drive it back, we don't have to-”

“We are abso-fucking-lutely doing this.” He shook the matches, turning to look at the car. “This asshole has been haunting me for far too long-”

“Gavin, he-”

“Yeah, I know,” he drawled, waving him off. “You’re right. He’s not a fucking ghost or a demon. I’ve let him become that though, haven’t I? Let him be bigger in my head than he really is. Let him… ‘walk all over me’.”

“I’m sorry for saying that,” said Connor, coming to stand next to him.

“No, you’re not,” snorted Gavin. The android was a worse liar than he was. “I needed to hear it. I just... I really don’t want to be the type of person that would hurt someone I’m close to. Not on purpose, at least. But we were never fucking close. Fuck, he _hated_ me. Love and trust,” a bitter laugh escaped his throat. “He would have spat in my face if I ever said either of those things to him.”

“That’s why he’s not worth your time or attention,” said Connor quietly. “Or the air he breathes, but you’re annoyingly insistent he keeps wasting good oxygen…”

“Alright,” smirked Gavin, knocking his shoulder into him. “I get it. He’s not worth it.” 

Like it could have been any fucking clearer.

He glanced at the android. 

His LED had finally settled back to blue, his eyes focused ahead.

“Who knows,” Gavin said offhandedly, taking a shaky breath. “Maybe there's someone else I should be paying attention to instead.” 

His LED actually fucking brightened, and the stupid swarm of butterflies made themselves known again. “I mean, um, Gizmo’s probably been feeling left out. I should be giving him all my time-”

Connor punched him in the arm, an amused smile on his face. “I’m not going to fight Gizmo for your attention, Gavin. He’d win, and he’s too cute to stay mad at.”

Gavin snickered, tossing the box of matches between his hands.

“I can’t believe we’re going to set this piece of shit on fire.” He grinned wickedly as he pulled out a match. “It’s like all my birthdays have come at once.”

Now that he had time to appreciate it, this was fucking amazing. Definitely not how he planned on spending the rest of his day, but it beat the shit out of pretending to watch cartoons while secretly wallowing in self-pity.

Causing trouble seemed more... proactive. More _fun_. There was something so fucking light about this after how dark today had been.

“You were mad at me for this five minutes ago,” Connor rolled those sweet brown eyes. “It’s astounding you get anything done with a brain like yours. And don’t tell me you’ve never done this before. I know you weren’t exactly a ‘good’ child.”

“I was a fucking angel!” said Gavin, appalled. Connor raised his eyebrow. “Fine. But I was more into five-finger discounts, not arson.”

“Ah, the master thief,” smiled Connor, looking at him with such utter affection, it made heat rise in Gavin's cheeks. Connor tilted his head towards the car. “Do you want to say a few words before we exorcise the demon?”

The demon...

Boyd was nothing but a pathetic coward, and Gavin was fucking ready to cut the ties.

“Not exorcising a demon, dipshit,” he said, tapping the match against the box. “We’re pissing off a massive asshole.”

And with that, he struck it and tossed it inside the car window, watching as the flames engulfed the interior. 

Whoa.

How much lighter fluid had Connor used?

Clearly enough to make him snake his arms around Gavin’s waist and pull him back a few feet. He didn’t let go, even when they were at a distance the android deemed safe.

It was prettier than in the movies. The flames were almost translucent, dancing around the inside, creating little pops as the glass heated up. 

He’d come across plenty of burnt-out cars in his work, but those were usually extinguished by the time he arrived, and he was only ever there because there was a body inside...

“Hey, Con?”

Connor hummed, resting his chin on Gavin’s shoulder. 

“You didn't like... put Boyd in the trunk, right?”

“The trunk!” exclaimed Connor softly, smiling against his neck. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Smartass,” snorted Gavin, covering the android’s arms with his own. “Would have been clever though. A sneaky way out of your promise, leaving me holding the matches.”

Connor gave him a squeeze. “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“I know you wouldn't.” He really did. Trust. It was strange just how quickly he felt it with him.

“Would you like a beer?”

“Yes,” Gavin groaned happily, letting his head fall back against Connor’s shoulder. “You keep this up and I’ll follow you around forever, I swear.”

“All it takes is a little bit of fire and alcohol?” chuckled Connor sweetly into his ear. “You’re still the caveman.”

He kissed his cheek quickly before slipping away, and Gavin followed him in a giddy daze, back to the rucksack and the neatly placed blanket. Connor sat down and pulled two six-packs out, one of beer, the other of Blue. He popped the caps off one of each and passed the beer up to him, sitting with his back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, watching the fire burn.

Huh...

Gavin looked between the burning car, the beer, the blanket and Connor, who was... Was he purposefully not paying attention to him?

Alcohol, a blanket, fire, a hot as fuck Connor...

“Con, is this-” He had to ask, even if it did sound too good to be true. “Is this a date?”

The android didn’t even glance his way, but he broke into a wide grin. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to go for a quiet restaurant or a walk in a park, and I was going to burn the car anyway so… two birds, one stone?”

Just… holy shit.

“And if you’d rather it not be,” he added bashfully, a fresh blue blush taking over his cheeks, “then we’re just an android and a human, drinking beer and torching a car.”

Unbelievable.

“Ritualistic, romantic and you brought beer.” He kicked Connor’s foot, demanding his full attention. He wasn't going to let him get shy now. Not after all this. “You’re a fucking terror.”

“You knew that before you slept with me,” Connor pointed out, patting the spot next to him. “So just... sit down and drink.”

Gavin rubbed his jaw with a disbelieving chuckle, dropping down onto the blanket. 

He tilted the neck of the bottle towards him, and even if he couldn’t see it, he knew Connor was beaming as he clinked his own bottle against it. 

Resting his elbows on his knees, he took a long swig of beer, watching Boyd’s car slowly burn. Connor’s hand found its way under his t-shirt, resting it on his lower back the way he seemed to love to do.

His touch. It made his heart race and relaxed him at the same time. He couldn't get enough. He craved all of the affection Connor was offering, and he offered it to him so fucking freely.

“I don’t deserve you,” muttered Gavin, soaking in the impossibility of the situation.

“Oh, get over it,” the android scoffed, knocking the heel of his bottle into Gavin’s temple. "If this is our first date, then I get to decide what you deserve. You clearly can't be trusted with that."

"So fuckin' bossy," tutted Gavin, smiling softly. 

Yip, as far as first dates went, he literally couldn’t imagine a better one.

*

“That’s ridiculous, Gavin.”

“No, it fucking isn’t. It makes complete sense.”

“Nothing you say or do ever makes any sense.”

“You’re the one who tricked me into a date to set a car on fire and feed me these delicious beers. Fuck, they are really good.” 

“That still makes more sense than knocking on Sandy’s door and demanding he confesses to ‘being an absolute prick’.”

Gavin snorted. “Says you…”

Connor gave a tired sigh, although this was going far better than he thought it would.

The detective was actually smiling, his heels resting on the wall next to Connor, lying back against the blanket, only occasionally sitting up to sip at beer number three.

Perhaps losing control of his emotions wasn’t part of the original plan (nothing he did with Gavin _ever_ went to plan), but it didn’t seem to hinder things.

In fact, as usual, Gavin responded well to the outburst of honesty. 

It was invigorating, not to have any pretence with someone, letting himself be truthful about his feelings, even if they were overwhelming at times. Gavin seemed to understand that, relate to it even.

The detective shifted a little, resting his head on his elbow. The movement made the tiniest sliver of skin reveal itself under his t-shirt and the urge to touch him was too strong.

He reached out, softly stroking the smooth skin of the man's hip, gliding over his abdomen. His own skin disappeared and he revelled in the warmth, in the pulse he could feel in Gavin's body through his bare chassis.

Gavin hummed serenely. 

_//Backup image saved**_

They’d been chatting idly as the car burned in the background, showing no signs of dying down, but every time Gavin lay back after taking a drink, he seemed to be even closer, until he was almost pressed completely against him. 

The impulse to increase contact was as present as ever, but when they'd engaged in sexual encounters previously, the man tended to focus his energy on Connor.

That's not what this outing was about. It had been a hard day and Connor wanted to give him and only him attention, the right kind. He wanted him to relax and allow Connor to take care of him.

He just didn't know how to make that happen.

“So, is this a good first date?” he asked apprehensively. 

Gavin laughed, and Connor could feel the pleasant vibrations of his body under his hand. “I should be asking you that. Unless… you ever, uh, _burned cars_ with anyone else?”

The detective was not the smoothest.

“This is my first date,” Connor confirmed with a smile, changing his position until he was lying down next to him. 

Again, Gavin shifted a little closer. It was almost automatic. “Well, how about we head back and end it like all first dates should end?”

Connor turned towards him. “Sex?”

“Cartoons, Con,” the man grinned cheekily, stretching back with his eyes closed, his t-shirt riding up even further. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” 

Hm. 

That wouldn’t be a satisfying end to the day. It was now or never. 

He tapped his fingers against the man’s hip, before subtly sliding a leg between his. “Of course. Cartoons when we go back.”

He leaned over, kissing his neck gently, right over a tiny freckle.

Gavin swallowed, his heart-rate noticeably increasing. “Yeah, cartoons later.”

Suddenly, Gavin tugged him over and Connor went willingly, moving on top of him, sucking at the spot on his neck until he knew a mark would be left.

"Fuck, that feels good," breathed Gavin, running his fingers through Connor's hair and holding him close.

He wished he could replace all the other bruises with ones that had the detective behaving like this.

Littering his neck in soft, slow kisses, Connor smiled, noticing how low the detective's stress levels had become.

“Con…” groaned Gavin, his hips shifting enough for Connor to feel how hard he already was, pressing against his thigh. 

Perfect.

He nipped and kissed his way down his neck and over his collarbone as he pushed his t-shirt up enough to go over his head, then sneakily tucked it behind his neck, trapping his arms above him.

That should keep him occupied for a few minutes.

“Huh.” There was a blush to his cheeks as he glanced down, amused. “You, uh, got access to what you need there, barbie?”

“Just behave and let me touch you,” said Connor, shifting down and kissing the man’s bare stomach. “I want you to relax.”

“But-"

Connor pressed his tongue into the dip of Gavin’s hip, hoping to get his point across.

Gavin’s head fell back against his t-shirt and he bit his lip with a groan. “You have no fucking clue how relaxed I am right now.”

“That's better.”

His kisses grew more fervent, curling his fingers into the man's sides, noting every minuscule movement and every unique erogenous point. It wasn't fair that Gavin had simply asked him to remove his skin so he could see exactly where to touch him. It was Connor's turn to explore. 

But the taste of the man was driving him crazy. He wanted more, and he could feel his own body reacting to the sensors in his mouth, picking up the man's DNA and registering it as pure pleasure.

That's exactly what it was. 

His tongue trailed up his chest playfully before heading downwards.

Gavin swore, his back arching as he reached his jeans. 

Connor tugged at the waistband without unbuttoning them, tasting as low as he could get, palming him at the same time. “Gavin?”

“Fuck, we’re outside,” the man chuckled. “If anyone saw us... just one more crime to add to the list?”

“There's a three percent chance we'll get caught,” Connor relayed the probability honestly, tonguing the hard stomach muscles.

Gavin took a moment, looking down at him. “That's good enough for me,” he grinned.

Connor smirked back as he unbuttoned his jeans, tugging them down until he was released, thick and hard against his stomach.

He didn’t waste a moment.

Taking him in his hand, he began moving, watching Gavin's reactions carefully. 

It was amazing. Captivating. The sight of him writhing under his touch was immediately saved, as were the soft sighs and moans, the twitches in his muscles.

Gavin bit his lip, staring downwards, before uttering, “Fuck this.”

Shimmying out of the t-shirt, he tugged Connor up, partially on top of him, slamming their mouths together.

Why couldn't the detective just lie still?

One hand roamed over Connor's shoulders, the other grasping his hair, and a tongue slipping into his mouth.

Connor moaned at the invasion, moving his hand until Gavin was thrusting into his grip. 

He pulled away, and Gavin chased his lips.

“No, I want to taste you,” whispered Connor, and Gavin audibly gulped, nodding.

Connor kissed his way back down Gavin's heated body, muscles tightening everywhere he touched. When he reached his dick, it was leaking, heavy in his hand.

Tentatively, he licked from the base to the tip and, hearing a short intake of breath above him, he smirked cheekily before he took him completely in his mouth.

He didn't need to wonder if Gavin enjoyed this. The man made it incredibly obvious.

“Holy shit...” Gavin's leg tried to come up next to him, hindered by his jeans. “Connor, baby. Yeah...”

_//Backup audio saved**_

Connor paused in amusement, coming away from him. “Baby?”

“What? Barbie. I said barbie.” The detective's eyes were still closed. He rubbed his leg against Connor's side. “Shit. Can't think. No filter. Shut up and keep going. Please. Please, please, please.”

Connor grinned. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“Fuck you- Oh yeah, just... just like that. Fuck, that's so good. You're so good.”

Finally, Gavin was letting go, words spilling nonsensically from his lips, his movements becoming erratic and...

_//Siren detected: ETA 4 minutes_

Shit. So much for relaxing. 

He pulled away once more, taking the detective by the chin. “Sorry. Three percent is still a chance.”

Gavin's eyes were practically glazed and it took a moment for him to understand.

“Fuck!”

*

Gavin had never dressed so fast in his life.

He could hear the familiar sound of a cop siren, heading their way. Just some colleagues coming to join the fucking party.

Even if they were just passing, they would have to be blind not to notice the pale smoke rising from the centre of the abandoned square.

“Three percent?” he said loudly, as Connor shoved the empty bottles into the side pockets of his rucksack. “Is your probability function broken?”

“Don't talk about my functions,” responded Connor curtly, but Gavin could swear there was amusement in his voice. “It's rude.”

“Are you... This isn't fucking funny, dipshit!” 

“It's a little bit funny,” grinned Connor, swinging his bag over his shoulder, giving the area one last look.

Gavin tutted. “We got everything?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Okay, next problem. Where the fuck are we going to go?” He looked around for a hiding spot. 

But Connor was already running, leaping onto the broken ladder of a fire escape. He held out his hand. “Two minutes until they arrive.”

How was the little shit still smiling?

Gavin rolled his eyes, taking a running jump at Connor's hand, grabbing it first time. Connor heaved him up, pushing him ahead on the ladder.

How was this even happening? How had he let himself be talked into this?

“As much as I appreciate the view, detective, you really should speed up.”

“This isn't fucking funny!” he said again. “And stop staring at my ass!”

But Connor was laughing and the sweet rumble of it was infectious.

“Con, for fuck sake,” he said, a wide grin taking over his face despite himself. “I'm still half-fucking-hard! I can't feel my legs as it is! Don't make me fucking laugh...”

That just made Connor laugh harder and Gavin finally broke, having to work his muscles twice as hard as he forced himself over the top of the building, falling clumsily onto the roof in a hysterical heap.

This couldn't be real.

A few hours ago, he’d thought he was going to die.

Now, he was hiding from the cops after torching a car, being interrupted getting frisky in a public space...

Suddenly a bag dropped down on one side of him, rattling with the empty glass bottles, and Connor collapsed at his other side, in a fit of actual giggles.

And Gavin was right there with him, laughing so much, tears flooded his eyes.

“Gavin!” Connor scolded shakily, shoving him. “You need to be quiet!”

“How about you make me,” he managed to get out, flipping him off.

"If that's what you want,” the android accepted with a sly smirk, and Gavin was pulled towards him, being kissed like it was their last day on earth.

It had to be the adrenaline, or whatever the android equivalent of that was, because between their breathless laughter, their lips kept finding each other, their limbs becoming a tangled mess, fists grabbing at clothes and fingers digging eagerly into skin.

By the time the siren was right under them and had been turned off, Gavin didn't know which way was up, and he didn't give a shit.

Which is how he found himself flat on his back, his thighs hugging the android's hips, a smooth hand pressed over his mouth and a very dishevelled Connor above him, eyes darting about as he listened to what was going on.

But Gavin wasn't interested in any of that, not when he could feel Connor's hardness pressed against his own. 

It wasn't like they could change anything now. Might as well enjoy themselves.

He cheekily rolled his hips upwards, drawing a strangled gasp from the man above him, loving the way the hand against his lips pressed down harder and those brown eyes flickered shut. 

When they opened again, it was with a fierce hunger that set Gavin's blood on fire.

Yip, fuck whoever was down there. This was happening.

He knocked the android's hand away and pulled him back down, into a deep kiss, his tongue delving in.

Connor grabbed his thigh, rocking them together, and Gavin would have been groaning so fucking loudly if his mouth hadn't been amazingly occupied.

He tucked his hand under the android's t-shirt, finding an indentation and tracing it-

Suddenly, Connor pulled back, his cheeks flushed a deep blue. “No, this isn't...” he glared at him, before demanding, “Turn over.”

Okay. He wasn't really too sure what was going on, but that wasn't a voice Gavin was prepared to argue with. 

He did as he was told, turning onto his hands and knees, as Connor somehow managed to rid him of his t-shirt.

And now he was _half-naked_ on a rooftop, barely hidden from the view of the square.

What the fuck were they doing?

Connor held his waist, tonguing every muscle he could find on Gavin's back, until he was shivering with want, and when hips ground against his ass, Gavin had to smother his groan because, fuck, the android was just as hard as he was.

He didn't even notice when Connor started undoing his jeans again, not until he had shifted them down, far enough for the android to have two handfuls of his ass, kneading, and out of nowhere, the mouth that had been on his lower back was right at his centre, licking and teasing him for all he was worth.

“Ah, fuck!” It was a deep whine, needy, but Connor's mouth was fucking incredible and he _definitely_ wasn't expecting him to do that. “Con...”

The android didn't take a breath, probably didn't fucking need to. His hands were massaging him, touching him like he'd never been touched before, fucking... _worshipping him_... he was moaning against him, until Gavin thought he was going to pass out from how fucking amazing it felt.

Then Connor moved, kissing up the ridges of his spine, his clothed chest slotting perfectly over his back as he bit into his neck. 

“Let me inside you,” he pleaded, grinding heatedly against him. “I want to make you feel good.”

Good? He felt fucking _weightless_ , and every single bone in his body wanted him to scream yes but...

“That's not gonna work,” Gavin replied, shakily, and hating himself for the truth of that statement. “Human, remember?”

But Connor was already unzipping the bag near them and pulling out a bottle of...

Oh, for fuck sake.

_Essentials._

He should have known...

Gavin laughed light-headedly. “Fuck, yes.”

This was the strangest and best date fucking ever.

In a heartbeat, Connor had two slick fingers inside him, his free hand exploring Gavin's stomach, teeth nipping at his hip, heading lower, before tonguing the area his fingers were pushing into.

Fuck, the sensation was incredible.

The scent of strawberry filled the warm air, and Gavin both promised himself he would thank Tina for that fucking gift, and wondered if Connor could taste the sweetness, until the android expertly brushed the spot inside him, and all thoughts disappeared. A choked, throaty groan escaped him, his hand pressing harder over his mouth as his head dropped to the roof.

He could vaguely hear the voices coming from down below, but it would have taken the arrival of a fucking army to stop this now.

When Connor's fingers pulled out of him, he bit his lip, eagerly awaiting what came next. 

And he didn't have to wait long at all.

Apparently he wasn't the only one with no patience.

Always so fucking careful no matter how welcome he was, Connor’s hardness was pressing against him, so slowly, until he was swallowed up, inch by greedy inch. 

Gavin reached down, stroking himself, until Connor batted his hand away.

Ah, Gavin was finally catching on. He was supposed to relax. This was Connor's show.

The android's hand slid over his shoulder, pulling him upwards, onto his knees.

The complete exposure should have been embarrassing, or worrying, or a million other bad things, but with Connor buried deep inside him, his smooth hands gliding over his chest and hip, skin slipping away as he held him close, it was nothing short of fucking _erotic_.

His head fell back and he heaved in a breath, impossibly turned on despite being untouched.

But every other inch of his body was being passionately caressed, and the motion of Connor's hips was unhurried, drawing out the pleasure at an agonisingly slow pace.

It was so fucking intense. Gavin was infinitely glad Connor wasn’t telling him to moan freely _this_ time, because he was dangerously close to giving away their hiding place.

Connor was already smothering his own elated static into Gavin’s shoulder, his gleaming white palm flat against Gavin's chest, right over his racing heart.

Then, just as Gavin thought he was going to lose his grip on reality, he began thrusting into him. 

Gavin’s hand shot to his mouth, stifling his pleasured groans, arching his back as Connor nipped and licked and sucked at his sensitive skin on his neck.

“Touch me,” he breathed, unashamed of how wrecked he sounded. If this was what Connor wanted, he had fucking succeeded.

Connor didn't respond with words. Instead, he took Gavin's unoccupied hand and, sliding it over his stomach and hip, made him grasp his own dick.

“Oh, fuck...”

Connor wrapped his hand around Gavin’s, guiding him.

It was-

Gavin groaned, biting down hard on his lip, as the android moved their hands faster, the pressure building so much, his body shook from it.

The patient rocking of Connor's hips into him had Gavin pulsing in their joined grip... shit, he couldn’t even take a full breath.

Connor behind him, pressed up against him, inside him, all fucking over him... a slender thumb swiping over his tip and the gathering pre-release, rotating their wrists as their hands moved together, hot breath whispering his name in ecstasy against his neck...

It was so fucking _much_. So fucking _good_... 

“Connor!” he hissed against his hand, his stomach muscles tightening as heat pooled in his abdomen, breath catching in his chest, his orgasm hitting him so fiercely he had to bite down on his fist to keep his volume low.

“G-Gavinnn...” the static-filled voice returned. Connor pushed into him ardently, and Gavin quickly slid his hand from his own face to Connor's temple, hiding his brightening LED, until the android wrapped his arms around him with a strained, euphoric groan into his shoulder.

Breathless, Connor held onto him tightly as they came back down, his hips still stuttering, and Gavin was a quivering fucking mess, gripping his arms in return. If Connor let go, he was sure he would definitely fucking collapse.

The warm humid wind gently caressed his naked body, and he was suddenly aware of just how bare he was, how out in the open they both were. 

It was weirdly fucking thrilling. 

How the fuck had they not been caught? 

Were they even still down there-

“That's it, let's go! You’ve registered the make and model, that’s enough. Leave it,” he heard a sharp voice shout beneath them. He knew that voice. Officer ‘the-kid-was-asking-for-it' Kelly. “We can't even read the plates. Just let the crew pick it up in the morning.”

“Shouldn't we check out that noise-"

“Sure, if you want to figure out a way up there. It's probably just birds. Come on. Our shift finished ten minutes ago. Not our fucking problem anymore.”

Connor's delirious laughter vibrated against his neck and Gavin swiftly pinched his arm. 

They weren't getting caught now, not while his legs felt like fucking jelly.

Then Connor shifted, sliding out of him, leaving Gavin feeling strangely empty until he returned once more, wiping off their hands with... a towel?

Huh. The ‘essentials’ again.

Fucking android.

Still, he let Connor clean up their bodily fluids before the outdoor air could make it uncomfortable. Once he was done, he helped him dress, even pulling his t-shirt over his head. 

He might have been blissed out of his fucking mind, but his arms still worked. Kind of.

Whatever.

He stayed quiet, letting the android take care of him before he, unbelievably, passed him a beer.

“I think we've earned it,” grinned Connor, tugging the crumpled blanket back out of the rucksack and going to shake it out on the rooftop.

“I...” No. There was nothing he could say. 

There was so much he _wanted_ to say but...

He was fucking speechless.

“Gavin?” Connor looked at him, a soft, worried expression on his beautiful face. He held out his hand. “Was that okay?”

Okay?

Gavin reached out and was pulled to his feet, surprised he could stand after all that. Before Connor could lead him towards the blanket, he yanked him back, bringing him in for a light kiss.

“That... was fucking _incredible_.”

*

Connor slipped Gavin’s oversized black hoodie on, settling himself between the man's legs, resting back against his chest, on the detective's insistence. The sun was starting to set, spilling golden and pink hues against the heavy clouds. 

Gavin hugged him closer, one arm wrapped around his chest. He'd put his red hoodie on already, sipping from beer number five with his free hand.

Connor wasn't concerned. This is what they needed after the last few days. Plus, the adrenaline and activities had probably burned off the worst of the alcohol (and Gavin had taken particular delight in ‘going' over the edge of the building, after many assurances from Connor that nobody would pick up his DNA from it).

They hadn't said much, just enjoying the quiet company, but Connor was still expecting a question that, for some reason, the detective hadn't-

“Essentials?”

Connor suppressed a laugh. “What about them?”

“Essentials,” he repeated, into his ear.

“I prepared for a date,” he grinned. “One I hoped you would like.”

“For a date with me, a _first_ fucking date, you packed matches, beer, lube and a towel?”

“And a blanket,” Connor added smugly.

“And you stole a car,” chuckled Gavin, kissing the top of his head. “You know, that wouldn't have worked if you were anyone else.”

“Sure,” snorted Connor. “So easy...”

“Oi!” laughed Gavin deeply, the amazing sensation vibrating against Connor's back. “You're the one who prepared for sex on a first date. There are names for people like you.”

“What names?” frowned Connor, pinching the man's leg.

“Weird-ass boy scout, for one,” muttered Gavin, amusedly. “Ready for any eventuality.”

“It was useful, wasn't it?” he beamed proudly. He hadn't expected it to actually go that far, but why not be prepared?

“Absolutely,” chuckled Gavin, ruffling his hair. “So, what's our plan for tomorrow?”

Hm. 

“I think we should go with your plan.”

“Which was?”

“We knock on Sandy's door,” Connor said simply.

“Wha- You called me an idiot for that!”

“That doesn't sound like something I'd say.”

“I-"

But before he could argue, Gavin's phone started buzzing from somewhere on the blanket.

“Shit. What do you think, good news or bad?”

“I don't think we're expecting good news, Gavin,” he said truthfully.

Gavin huffed, reaching out for it. “What?” he snapped, after answering. There was a brief pause before he repeated his question, more curious this time. “What? Hold on.” 

He held the phone out in front of them. “Alright, say that again.”

“The kid,” McCready's voice spilled out over the loudspeaker, confused. “My shift's just finished. Got back to my desk, and he's left a drawing behind. Seems odd. I didn't want to bother the other detective's with it, it's probably nothing-"

“Send it to us,” said Connor, sitting up, sharing a concerned look with Gavin.

A moment passed and Gavin's phone pinged.

An image appeared on the screen and Connor could see why he thought it was both odd and probably nothing.

If Connor hadn't already seen Sam's artwork in his bedroom, he might have thought the same thing. But this was a scribble, rushed. The boy hadn’t torn out any pages when he'd gone to speak to Connor, which meant this was likely done before then, or between Sandy asking him to grab his things and returning. 

Three squares, one on top of the other. The top square had been scribbled in red ink, from a biro. He'd obviously used what was to hand on McCready's desk.

Why would he leave it?

“McCready,” Gavin said seriously. “I know it's the end of your shift-"

“Just tell me what you need,” the officer interrupted. 

“Get your hands on the warrant for the search of Jones' house and send it to us. I want to know everything they found and removed. Seal the drawing and get it into evidence. Just in case. Don't label it, not yet.”

“Got it,” McCready sighed. “I know this is probably nothing but I was with that kid all day. While his uncle was bitching about Officer Chen, he kept, just, looking at me. I dunno. It was like he...”

“Wanted to say more, but couldn't,” finished Connor, glancing at Gavin. “If this is another one of Sam's clues...”

“His last one was more helpful,” Gavin muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Can you get eyes on his house tonight? It might be nothing, but if it isn't...”

“Yeah,” the officer replied. “It's done. Should I call-"

“No,” said Connor quickly. “We'll let the other detectives know. Thank you.”

Gavin ended the call as Connor shook his head in confusion. “What do you think it means?” 

“No fucking idea. He might have left it behind by accident, maybe he was throwing it away, but...” the detective shrugged. “What were you saying about knocking on his door?”

“That it's the best idea we have,” said Connor regretfully, but they were running out of time and options. “We're not getting the other detectives involved.”

“Con...” started Gavin tiredly.

“No, not because of Boyd,” he said. “Well, yes, because of Boyd. If there's even a possibility he is using red ice, we can't trust him with this.”

Gavin rubbed Connor's arm absently. “Okay. Right. Makes sense. But technically this isn't our case. What are we gonna do to get into their house? Bake them a fucking cake?”

Well, as far as plans went, that wasn't the worst...

“We should-" Before Connor could finish, his own phone started ringing. 

Gavin fell back against the blanket, growling in frustration. “If that's more bad news, I'm setting fire to this fucking day.”

_//Unknown caller_

That was unusual.

“Connor speaking,” he answered. 

“There's the fucking ‘droid everyone loves,” sniggered a voice he recognised.

“Simmons,” huffed Connor, shaking his head. “How did you get this number?”

Gavin sat back up.

“Just wanted to let you know, we got a confession. From Frank fucking Miller. Didn't want you to hear it from anyone else-"

Connor hung up, blinking in disbelief. That couldn't be right.

“What?” Gavin asked, taking his shoulder.

“Frank confessed,” muttered Connor.

“What?! But he's not fucking guilty!”

Connor was sure he wasn't...

“Maybe he's been making red ice somewhere else,” he said, doubtfully. “Maybe...”

“Fuck.” Gavin tugged him back, kissing the side of his head. “Right, no. We're not thinking about this now.”

“Fowler said we had two days, unless Frank confessed. He confessed,” he said, his frustration building even as Gavin stroked his hair.

“But he's not our fucking guy," said Gavin stubbornly. "We know that. And if Fowler wants us off this, then fine. We've got two weeks paid vacation coming our way. Can't stop us strolling through the fucking neighbourhood as civilians, right?”

Connor nodded slowly, his mind alight with confusion. Had he been wrong? Frank wasn't a very nice man, but it certainly didn't seem like drugs were anything he had a hand in. Dillon had been lying when he gave Frank's name, he had been so _sure_...

“Oi,” said Gavin, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Don't you fucking dare question any of this. We’re right. Our guts, metaphorical or otherwise, they are leading us in the right direction. Fuck the rest of them. They're wrong.”

“Why else would he confess?” It didn’t make sense unless he was the one...

“That's for us to figure out tomorrow. Sam's being watched tonight, he's safe. Frank and Dillon are locked up, so we're hitting fucking pause.”

“Pause?”

“Yes,” Gavin said with certainty. “There's nothing we can do right now. Fowler has ordered us to take the day off and we're too many beers down. We rest up tonight, then kick ass tomorrow.”

Connor glanced at him. 

“What, you need a distraction?” the man smirked.

Yes, he did.

“Do you have another question?” smiled Connor, weakly. “Inappropriately heavy?”

“Nah, not this time. Something else. Something...” Gavin bit his lip, looking around as if he thought that Connor might dash off if he didn't think something quickly.

Then his eyes widened and a sly smile took over his face.

“I have an idea,” he grinned, picking up his phone and tapping it a few times.

“What are you doing?” Connor asked curiously.

A slow song spilled out, and Gavin threw the phone down, scratching his knees awkwardly. “Only one thing left on the list, barbie.” He pushed himself to his feet, holding out his hand. “Dance with me.”

Dance...?

Connor hesitantly accepted the hand, being pulled flush against the detective's body. “I...” he muttered, nervously looking around.

_//Honesty_

“I've never done this before,” he admitted. Knowing about something and experiencing it were two different things. 

Gavin laughed deeply, leading Connor's hand to his waist. 

He barely had a chance to soak in the heat permeating through the man's hoodie before a strong arm wrapped around Connor's back and their free hands laced together. “Neither have I,” he whispered.

Connor looked at him. “Never?”

“Not outside a club,” he answered, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “And that definitely doesn’t count. Apparently once with Tina at her wedding but I can barely remember it.”

Oh. He didn't expect that. A first for them both. It was an illogical response, but his mind lit up in a multitude of colours. He didn't understand it, sharing this with Gavin... it was special, it felt important. 

_//Gavin Reed:..._

The soft music played on and Gavin moved them slowly together.

All dark thoughts drifted away, his prompts quietened.

He... hit pause, and all that existed was him and Gavin, on the rooftop with the sun setting behind them. The man was leaning into him, holding him close, and his entire presence was one of comfort. Of safety.

His hand tightened on Gavin's. “You're good at this,” he smiled. 

“Distractions or dancing?” chuckled Gavin quietly, resting his forehead against him.

“Both.”

“Hmm. How about I take you home and show you what else I'm good at?”

Connor frowned. He wasn't falling for that this time. “Watching cartoons?”

“Sucking you off, Con,” he laughed, stealing a kiss. “What are we, five? In human years?”

“Su...” Connor grimaced. Did the man have to be so crude? “You have such a way with words.”

Gavin shoved him away, then tugged on his hand, spinning him under his arm before pulling him right up against him and capturing his lips again, kissing him softly. 

Connor smiled into it.

When Gavin pulled back, he was grinning warmly, running his hand up his side. “If your plan was to make this day not completely shitty, you've definitely won. Let's go watch cartoons. After this song. I'm enjoying this.”

_//Gavin Reed Stress Level: Low_

The idea of being back on the couch with Gavin, watching cartoons... his own stress level had never been lower either.

“Hey, it's my turn for a question, right?” asked Gavin, holding him close again, swaying them gently.

“No-" he frowned.

“Technically you never answered my last one so I get a do-over,” the detective said smugly.

Connor groaned, forgetting about his mishap in the club. “Go on then.”

“Who the fuck drew their weapon on you? Other than me.”

“I preferred the last question,” muttered Connor. 

"Don't worry, I'm saving that one for another time," winked Gavin, looking at him expectantly.

Connor rolled his eyes. “It was Hank.”

“No fucking way. Hank? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Suddenly I don't feel so bad... you must have one of those faces.”

“ _He_ never shot it,” Connor teased.

Gavin chuckled, giving him another spin before exaggeratedly kissing his cheek. “Oh, _get over it_.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin, starved of touch and affection, looking around: Overwhelming emotions? Aimed at me?  
> Connor, emotionally overwhelmed: You are such a pain in the ass!  
> Gavin, heart eyes: You care about me!  
> Connor: *leaves*
> 
>  
> 
> Gavin: So, second date?  
> Connor: We haven't spoken about it.  
> Gavin: Let's not.  
> Connor: Agreed.
> 
>  
> 
> And they danced the night away, headed home and cuddled on the couch until they fell asleep, living happily ever after...
> 
> Nah! A few more chapters to go. Someone's got a cake to bake and a door to knock on.
> 
> And some more trouble to get into. Of course.
> 
> Much love to you all.
> 
> ❤ j.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving into the kitchen, he briefly hovered over the coffee machine. 
> 
> No. Too loud.
> 
> He put some water into a pot on the stove instead, hitting a few buttons on his phone and putting it to his ear.
> 
> “What?” came a groggy voice on the other end after a few rings.
> 
> “Connor,” he said as quickly as he could. 
> 
> Huh. That was easier to say than he thought it would be. 
> 
> He was pretty sure she’d be able to read between the lines with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin makes a phone call and the boys do what they can to stay on the case!

Chapter 25

Gavin's bleary eyes opened, quickly adjusting to the darkness of the room. It was definitely early. The sun wasn't up, but the birds were tweeting in a loud frenzy outside the open window.

Shit, they hadn’t even made it upstairs. 

As soon as they were changed and on the couch with some background noise on the television, their bodies huddled together in the limited space, the exhaustion of the day must have finally caught up with them.

Not that it mattered. Even now, he was stupidly warm and comfortable. 

He glanced down at Connor and rolled his eyes, stifling a laugh.

Nestled snuggly in his arms, his dark, tousled hair was a stark contrast to Gavin's white t-shirt. His sweet, boyish face was relaxed, as innocent as ever.

Like he hadn't stolen a car just hours before. Or planned to set it on fire. Or broken into a house. Or attacked a detective. 

_'For the next few days, or weeks, I'm going to be your terror, Gavin.'_

Gavin had no idea how true those words would be when Connor had said them to him last week.

He kissed his forehead, squeezing him softly. He could easily stay like this for the rest of the morning, but they had shit to do today, and they might as well get an early start. 

As carefully as he could, he slid out from under him, gently laying him back against the couch. He took the throw and tucked it around him, instinctively moving his hair from his forehead.

Thick, dark lashes resting against those pale cheeks, his LED pulsing a steady, rhythmic blue against the cushion... he was so fucking pretty-

An irritated chirp sounded from the top of the cat tree, knocking him out of his thoughts. Gavin tutted. “What's your problem, Gizmo? I'm just looking...”

The cat gave an apathetic yawn, quickly losing interest and curling up with a heavy sigh.

“Whatever,” he snorted, stretching into the air with a yawn of his own.

He spotted his phone on the coffee table, picking it up and tapping it against his palm, thinking.

Connor didn’t look like he’d be waking up any time soon...

He might as well take advantage. 

Moving into the kitchen, he briefly hovered over the coffee machine. 

No. Too loud. 

He put some water into a pot on the stove instead, hitting a few buttons on his phone and putting it to his ear.

“What?” came a groggy voice on the other end after a few rings.

“Connor,” he said as quickly as he could. 

Huh. That was easier to say than he thought it would be. 

He was pretty sure she’d be able to read between the lines with that.

“Gavin...” groaned Tina. “Why don't you have a goddamn sleeping pattern? It's three in the morning.” She exhaled tiredly, sounding suspiciously like Gizmo. “Remind me, when did this case start?”

“Friday,” he answered with a frown, willing the water to boil faster. He was definitely having ‘the good stuff' this morning.

“And what day is it now?”

“I don't know, Monday?” he said distractedly, pouring some of his strongest instant coffee into a large mug, reaching for the sugar. He glanced back to the couch. No movement from Connor.

“Two things...” started Tina, speaking in hushed tones. He could hear her shuffling about. “One, it's first thing Tuesday morning, and you’re lucky I’m on the early shift today. Two, have you lost your mind? It’s barely day five.”

“We burned a car together,” he fired out. He gave a relieved sigh at getting that off his chest, lifting the pot from the stove and dumping the boiling water into the mug.

“You burned a...” A door closed quietly in the background. “You actually _have_ lost your mind! Am I dreaming? Whose car? And why? How did you even talk Connor into that?”

“How did I...” he gaped. “It was his fucking idea!” Where was the fucking trust?

“Sure, it was,” scoffed Tina. Gavin could hear the padding footsteps and then the distinctive sound of a coffee machine being turned on. “Do you know how much trouble you could be in?”

“He kind of planned it. For me,” he explained, sitting down at the small kitchen table, sipping the glorious coffee. “It was Boyd's car.”

“Oh…” There was a brief pause. “Well, that's fine then.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s no fucking excuse-” he drawled.

“Fuck that. I’m serious,” she chuckled gleefully. “Good for you. If you’ve still got the supplies and his address, we can visit his place and burn it to the ground too. With him inside, for all I care. Get Connor, he's probably up for it.”

“Chen!” For fuck sake, he was expecting a berating, not support.

“What? Steve's a prick, who treated you like... well, you know he’s earned a _lot_ fucking worse,” she said, slurping her coffee. “I take it you told Connor about him then?”

“Some, but he, um, got a front row seat for his bullshit,” he said honestly. He didn’t want to get into the whole unwanted groping and murder threats over the phone. 

“That bruise on your face,” she huffed, wearily. “That was him, wasn’t it? I fucking knew it.”

“Not important.”

“It is, Gav.” He could see her disapproving look in his mind. “That despicable bastard-"

“Not. Important,” he repeated sternly. 

A few seconds of stubborn silence passed between them.

“Fine, whatever,” she tutted, letting him off the hook for now. “I’m impressed though. I can’t believe Connor _planned_ that. Didn't think he had it in him. That's pretty sweet.”

Had it in him... if only she knew. Connor was a fucking dark horse.

“He called it a date,” he admitted.

“A date?!” she screeched, choking on her coffee.

“Inside fucking voice, Chen!” hissed Gavin, watching the couch. "Fuck, does Susan wear earplugs?"

“An actual date?” she asked, lowering her voice, still radiating excitement. “Like with dinner and hand-holding?”

“We torched Boyd’s car and drank beers,” he muttered, taking another drink. “We almost got caught by Officer Kelly while she was on duty, but we escaped onto the top of one of the buildings and then we had sex right there on the roof.”

Another pause. “You had... on the...” she tried. “Wha- Who even are you?"

“I don’t fucking know anymore,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand down his face. “But that was the most fun I’ve had with a guy in my whole life, I fuckin' swear to you.”

“A guy…” echoed Tina thoughtfully. He could hear the smile in her voice. “I knew you were crushing hard with your weird prank obsession, but you’re really not seeing him as just an android anymore, are you?”

_Just an android..._

Gavin stood, quietly moving to peek over the couch, where Connor lay in a bundle, long legs stretched out. His LED was still blinking blue, a little faster than before. 

“He's a lot of things,” he said softly, wanting to slide back next to him, “but I don’t think he’s been ‘just’ anything for a while…”

Dramatic vomiting noises came from the other end of the phone, followed by cheeky laughter. “Seriously, _who even are you_?”

“Fuck you, bitch,” he grumbled, returning to the table and falling heavily in the chair, taking a large gulp of coffee. “I know how this sounds.”

Tina exhaled happily. “Listen, when we were at the bar, you and Connor were actually talking, smiling at each other. _Getting along_ , for the most part anyway. It was like being on another planet. A sight to see, after all the awkwardness of you two staring at each other nonstop at work.”

Connor staring...? Yeah, right.

“Come on, Chen. He never-"

“You've been watching him do his pranks and I keep wondering why only you seem to notice them.”

“My incredible powers of _observation_?” he offered sarcastically.

“Or maybe he waits until you're around before he-”

“I told him I was crazy about him.” Why wouldn't his mouth stop? 

“F-fuck!” she choked. That was a fair reaction. He wasn't usually so forthcoming with his feelings. “Gav, I’m trying to _drink_ my coffee, not inhale it! Right. Right. Let's go back. How did this even start?”

Gavin thought, tapping his mug and ducking his head, pressing the phone to his ear. “I hit him with water balloons and then he kissed me...”

Yup, that was how it happened. Basically. The vivid memory of tentatively holding Connor’s slim waist, on the grass, too afraid to move, feeling the heat from his body under his soaked clothes, Connor’s wet lips shining captivatingly in the sunlight, Gavin's heart almost stopping when his lips were captured by ones far softer and sweeter than he'd ever tasted before, than should ever have been possible... that was unimportant. 

For Tina. 

She definitely didn’t need to know all that.

She was too busy cackling anyway. “Of course, Connor would make the first move, you total wuss,” she jibed, like the pest she was. “Shit, I wish I'd put money on this.”

“Fuck off...” he said, keeping his voice as low as possible. “This goes no fucking further, I mean it, but I... fuck it, I haven’t felt like this before. Lying on the couch with him, or dancing with him, or, fuck, even arguing with him, there’s this... it's like there's this energy between us. It feels so fucking good, so fucking-”

“Whoa, hold up,” she interrupted, her tone suddenly serious. “Dancing?”

Gavin grinned at the memory. “On the roof, while the sun was setting.”

Yet another pause. “Gav, is this some kind of code? Do you need backup right now? Say ‘pineapple’ and I’ll call it in.”

He snickered, scratching at his stubble. “I’m fucked, right? He's in stasis on the couch right now and I just want to look at him. Even Gizmo's disgusted. Hell, _I’m_ fucking disgusted.”

Tina sighed, her fingernails clinking on ceramic. “No, you’re not. You actually sound _happy_. I can’t remember ever hearing you like this. It's weird, but it's nice. _He’s_ nice.”

It was beyond him how Connor had managed to keep his reputation clean for so long when he was actually a walking fucking disaster. “Don't forget that he can also snap someone in half with no effort at all," he added. "Literally _in half_.”

She hummed, knowingly. “And I bet you don’t find that as unattractive as you wish you did.”

... Gold star to the bitch.

“I watched him throw Boyd to the ground like he was made of paper,” he smirked.

“No way!” she gasped, and he heard her coffee machine go again. “I would have paid good money to see that.”

“He lost it with me yesterday too,” he said fondly, running a finger around the edge of the mug. “You’d have fucking loved it. Was yelling at me about Boyd, about me letting him get away with his shit. I was too busy throwing myself a fucking pity-party to listen, so he just went through me. Like he was fucking _overloading_. Full blown stress. It was-”

“Geez, Gav,” Tina interrupted again. 

“What?” he said, taking a breath.

She huffed out a quiet laugh. “You’ve got it bad.”

That was an understatement. 

“Yeah, I know. He yells at me and I fucking melt. Why the fuck do you think I called?” he sighed, downing the rest of his coffee and going to boil more water. “I fell asleep cuddling into him and it felt fucking incredible, but it’s barely been a week. This case is over, or it will be soon, and we’re smart. We know we’ve got to get back to reality eventually.”

“Wait, do you want it to end?”

“No.” The response was immediate and the overwhelming feelings behind it surprised him. He absolutely did not want this to end.

“Does he?”

His eyes flickered over to the couch. “No? I don’t fucking think so anyway. I asked him before and he never really answered but with everything that's happened...” He took a deep breath as his hyperactive mind went into overdrive, the worst of the doubts knocking into him. “I mean, maybe he's just using me. Maybe this has all been a way to make things _easier_ while he’s forced to live with me. Social protocols or whatever. But I don’t think so. Well, I fucking hope it’s not. Do you think it is?”

No. That was crazy. But, fuck, even the thought of it left him horribly cold. 

“That's nonsense and you know it,” she scolded lightly. “Are you a detective, or not? Do you really think it was social protocols that made him put his hands all over your ass while there was an audience at the car window? Mrs Miller was apparently _very_ descriptive, by the way.”

He ignored the heat that came to his face at the reminder of that particular incident, but he also remembered the kiss they had shared after Liz had left, and found himself smiling.

“I did ask him if this was all part of an elaborate prank,” he said, moving swiftly on, wandering over to where the android was sleeping.

“And he said?”

“He said it wasn’t.” He leaned on the back of the couch.

That was a mistake.

"Gav, forget Fowler. _I'm_ going to take your fucking badge-"

Arms wrapped around his waist and suddenly, his feet weren’t on the floor anymore. He was pulled backwards, landing on his front with an oomph, on top of the now completely awake android. “Con!” he growled, as his phone was tugged out of his grasp. “You gave me a fucking heart attack!”

He could hear his pulse in his skull!

Connor beamed up at him proudly, eyes bright, his dark hair sticking up everywhere. Then, quick as a flash, he was tossed onto the couch, their positions switched, and Connor was straddling him. 

Flipping his phone into the air with a spin, the android caught it with a ridiculously smug wink before putting it to his ear. “Good morning, Tina," he said pleasantly. "How are you?”

There was a shriek of laughter from the other end. 

“Connor!” Tina squealed in delight, and Gavin was fucking shocked his phone didn’t shatter with the noise. “This is already a great day! Are you enjoying your morning?”

Unbelievable.

“I am,” said Connor, staring at him. He was quickly enthralled by those predatory brown eyes. “My _social protocols_ have suggested keeping Gavin trapped on the couch for the time being. To make things _easier_ for us both.”

Ah, fuck. So he was listening to-

Whoa, trapped?

Gavin wriggled, trying to push himself up, but despite Connor’s light weight, apparently he was like lead when he didn’t want to be moved. 

Fucking superpowers. He was stuck.

And he could still hear Tina laughing. “Would you like that backup now, Gav?” 

“Fuck you, Chen!” he called, stretching out an arm and ending the call. He prodded an accusatory finger into the android’s chest. “You were eavesdropping, you fucking-”

“I just exited stasis a moment ago and you're already mad at me,” chuckled Connor, putting the phone on the coffee table and resting his hands on Gavin’s stomach. “Technically, I woke up because of you. I was alerted to your slightly raised stress levels. I couldn't resist giving you a fright when I realised the reason why.”

Gavin felt Connor relax, settling in his lap. That was _his_ mistake.

With lightening speed, he shoved off the couch, pushing Connor flat on his back, the android's knees on either side of his hips. Gavin grabbed his waist, hoisting him closer and hovering over him. “That was a Chen exclusive,” he said dangerously. “We were talking _about_ you, not to you.”

"I apologise," said Connor, not sounding sorry at all. "I promise, I only heard a small part of your conversation. Still, you could have gone upstairs."

He was right, but Connor was _downstairs_ so...

"That's not where the coffee lives, dumbass," he said quickly, rolling his eyes. Stupid fucking android. But while he had him here, he took the opportunity to lift Connor's t-shirt and examine his side. The blue marks were almost completely gone. He stroked his thumb gently over the area, watching the skin ripple away, freezing when he spotted the remnants of the drawing underneath. Shit, it was really fucking difficult to stay mad at him.

Connor sighed, carefully taking Gavin's injured hand away from him. He kissed the sore knuckles. “It’s my turn for a question, right?”

Gavin swallowed, staring at their hands. “I s’pose.”

He looked away, deep in thought. “Should I use my social protocols to seduce Officer Kelly? She doesn't like me and you seem to believe it is an effective tactic.”

The android's lips twitched in amusement.

That little shit.

Tugging his hand away, Gavin reached behind him, nabbing a cushion. “No. You shouldn’t. And that fucking counts as a question, dipshit. Next one is mine.”

He pressed the cushion firmly over the android's face.

There was a few seconds of silence, before Connor spoke, his voice heavily muffled. “Are you trying to kill me, detective? You are aware that I don't require oxygen, yes? If you are not, then we should class this as a massive overreaction.”

Gavin's face split into a grin, but he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Shut up. Don’t ruin this for me. You have no idea how satisfying this is.”

A bored huff came from under the cushion and Connor's slim arms folded across his chest. “Let me know when you're done.”

Slowly lifting it away, he glanced down at Connor's dishevelled state.

“ _Social protocols_ ,” Connor sighed with a small, curious smile, tugging the cushion from him and throwing it to the floor. He leaned up, taking hold of Gavin's face and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “You need to re-evaluate the lengths you think I would go to to get along with my co-workers.”

Gavin snorted, his face burning up at the android's soft gesture. “You weren't supposed to hear that, so forget you ever did. And don't go fuckin' seducing Kelly, of all people.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” Connor ran the pad of his thumb over Gavin's lower lip and it aggrivatingly made the butterflies in his chest dance. “Have another coffee, detective. Now that we're up, I have a plan and you are not going to like it.”

Gavin’s head dropped to Connor's shoulder and he groaned. “You and your plans. Are we at least following the law this time?”

“It's _legal_... technically,” he shrugged.

Fuck. He could easily read between _those_ lines.

“We're going to visit Frank,” Connor said finally, with an apologetic kiss to his temple.

Gavin groaned louder.

*

“This is fucking stupid.” 

Gavin felt a strange sense of déjà vu. How often had he said that over the last few days?

“It is, but none of this makes sense and I need to know why,” Connor said, flicking his stone into the air. “I just… need to.”

Yeah, he couldn’t argue with that. 

Connor was certain that Frank was innocent, and Gavin had to agree. It absolutely didn’t make sense for him to confess. And if it didn’t make sense to Gavin, it must have been eating away at the android.

“I get it,” said Gavin, stretching out his burst-knuckled hand over the steering wheel. “But we're making sure the coast is clear first. The fewer people who see us, the better chance we have of getting away with this without the three fuckwits finding out we're here. It's just past four in the morning so there should only be a skeleton crew on shift, and most of those officers will be out, if we're lucky.” The long road was leading them towards the soft lights of a large building, looking ominous surrounded by the buildings still in darkness. “Shit, I haven’t been here since I worked with those guys. Feels weird being back.”

He pulled into the parking lot, swinging into one of the many free spaces. At least the 9th precinct was a ghost town compared to central at this hour.

“You don’t have to come in with me if you’re uncomfortable,” said Connor, slipping the pebble into his pocket as they both headed out.

Gavin scoffed, locking the car and shoving the keys into his pocket. “You really expect me to wait in the car after last time? Besides, this is the job. Kind of...”

But as confident as he hoped he sounded, that usual wave of anxiety hit him as he stared up at the building, uneasiness left over from his time with Boyd. He quickly buried it, ascending the stairs behind Connor, going through the heavy glass doors. 

An android stood behind the desk, in a blue dress, her dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. No LED, but Gavin recognised her as the same model that once stood behind their own reception area. 

“Good morning,” she said, pleasantly. “How may I help?”

They both revealed their badges, and Connor stepped forward. “We're here to see Frank Miller.”

“Of course.” She tapped away at a terminal. “Is this in a personal or professional capacity?”

“Professional,” answered Connor. “We are working with Detective Simmons, who interrogated him last night. I have a few follow-up questions, before the case is closed.”

The woman eyed him warily and Gavin was almost certain that this was as far as they were getting, but then she sighed. “Detective Simmons _should_ have left instructions with us but he very rarely does, and I’ve seen the tantrums he throws when things don’t go his way...”

Holy shit, Simmons’ pain in the ass attitude might win them this. Gavin could have laughed. "I can believe that," he nodded supportively. "Can't organise himself and that's everybody else's fault."

She looked at them with a smile. “You’ll need to sign in and I must insist you make it quick. I’m afraid I don’t have any available officers to accompany you, do you know the way?”

He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Signing in would leave a trail.

But Connor was already nodding, swiping his badge on the electronic strip on the desk. It dinged. 

As Gavin went to follow suit, Connor tugged him back.

Gavin tutted, rolling his eyes. Of fucking course…

“The cells are towards the back, on the left,” nodded Connor to the receptionist. “I'll go in myself. He will wait here.”

“That’s no bother,” the woman said politely.

With a matching smile, Connor led him over to the main entrance.

“Gavin…” he started, when they were out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gavin huffed, waving him off. He’d heard it all from him before. “Last chance. You won’t let me get into trouble. Blah, blah, fucking blah. You know, one day you’re gonna have to let me put myself on the line for _you_. This is starting to get unfair.”

“I hope that day never comes,” smirked Connor, his fingers sneakily brushing his palm. “Stay out of trouble. Let me know if anybody shows up, or if it starts to get a bit too busy. I won't be long.”

Gavin gave a nod and watched Connor disappear through the small gate. It gave a little beep as he was allowed through.

Great. He was left waiting again.

He looked around the area restlessly, fidgeting with his phone. The last time he’d been here, it was probably to meet Boyd, heading out to a grungy bar as they normally did. Chatting about nothing until Boyd got bored, then his hatred of people would begin spewing out of his mouth, before he'd focus it on someone in the bar or Gavin himself…

It was strange how this place could hold such strong associations, considering nothing bad ever really happened here. But just standing in this room had him unsettled. He hated it. He-

“Can I get you a coffee, detective?”

The woman was staring at him, a soft, kind look on her face.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, with a weak smile, grateful for the distraction. “Fuck… yes.”

*

This precinct was smaller than their own, but the layout was similar. He navigated through with ease, reaching the cells.

Frank Miller was sitting on the cot with his head in his hands, his shirt discarded on the floor, his white vest stained under his arms. He was muttering softly, but none of it made sense.

Connor lightly tapped on the plastic and he looked up, his ruddy face streaked with tears.

He quickly rubbed them away, sniffing loudly. “Fucking great. What the fuck are you doing here, bot? Want to gloat? Your boytoy here too?”

Although his words were angry, that wasn’t the impression Connor was receiving. He seemed… defeated.

He touched the stone in his pocket. “I'm here to find out why you confessed to a crime you never committed.”

“Get fucked,” he snarled, standing up from the cot, and pacing the small cell. “Like you don't know why.”

“I don't,” said Connor, watching him carefully. “I honestly can’t imagine why you would do this. I was in your home. There was no trace of red ice. Nothing to suggest that you have any inclinations towards making it or selling it. Am I wrong? Are you involved with it?”

“Is this a trick?” he asked, abruptly walking up to plastic wall, slamming his hand on it with a dull thud. His eyes were dark, shining and tired. “I’m not falling for it!”

“Please, keep your voice down,” hushed Connor, scanning the area around him. No movement. "This isn’t a trick. The only reason I’m here is because I believe your confession is false. If it is not, tell me and I’ll leave.”

Frank grunted, pushing himself away from the wall, but said nothing. He scratched at his forearm.

The action drew Connor’s attention, and he spotted the tattoo, ribbons with three names inside. One fresher than the other two. His children.

“What is Liz going to say about this?” he tried, moving to the other side of the cell wall. “You could go to prison for a long time. Your girls have just turned four. You’ll miss their fifth birthday, their first day of school. You have a baby. You’ll miss his first steps, his first words-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He balled his hands into fists, turning his back to him. “That’s why I’m doing this. When I get out, at least... at least I’ll still be able to see them.”

Connor frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Why would you, android?” he spat, his voice tight, shooting a look over his shoulder. The tears were flowing freely down his angry, red face. “What the fuck would you know about family? I cleaned up my fucking life the second Liz told me she was pregnant. We worked our asses off to get that house, to make it a home. Liz is a stern bitch at times, but she’s a good mom. I know she’ll take care of them while I’m gone, and she knows I’ll come back to them.” He rubbed his hands together. “I'll come back to them.”

No, Connor was wrong. The man wasn’t angry or defeated. He was scared. Heartbroken.

“Why do you have to go at all? This isn’t your crime,” pushed Connor. As awful as his wife was, the man clearly loved her, why would he put himself in this position?

“I know that,” the man growled, “but you saw the guns, didn’t you? He showed me the pictures. You were the only one that could have gotten into that room.”

Connor’s attention flickered away. The guns. The room.

The pictures of the basement from the party, the ones he’d uploaded to the DPD database. Had the detectives used them as leverage to get a confession? But...

“That doesn’t make sense,” Connor shook his head. “Why confess to one crime to get away with another?”

The man sniffed, his thumb going to the names on his arm. “The bastard detective made it clear. The guns I kept in the house put my kids in danger. They would be taken away from us, me and Liz.”

Connor’s eyes widened.

_//Detective Simmons threatened Frank’s family_

“That stupid fucking collection,” he muttered, dropping back onto the cot, staring into space. “I inherited most of that shit from my fucking father. His legacy of insanity.” He rubbed a hand over his bald head. “What was I supposed to do, dump them? Put them in the trash? Show up at a fucking station with them piled up in my car? With _my_ history... Yeah, I kept them. Of course I fucking did. But I installed a digital lock so the little ones couldn’t get access. Change the key every few months. I go to a range with a shotgun every now and then but it goes straight back into the basement. They were safe. I would never put my kids in danger. Never. If I thought for a second they could get into that room…”

_//Frank Miller cares deeply for his children_

“Detective Simmons told you that if you confessed to making red ice, he would overlook the gun charges,” said Connor, finally understanding.

“The guns will be removed,” nodded Frank absently, rubbing his tired eyes. “I’ll go away for a few years for the red ice charges but when I come out, I’ll get to go home. Back to my family. That’s all I want. Everybody wins. So just let me do this in peace.”

_//Detective Simmons lied_

“Frank,” he started, moving to the centre of the cell wall. “There’s a strong possibility that you could go away a lot longer than a few years. Do you understand what you’ve confessed to?”

“Handing out red ice to dealers in Detroit,” he muttered with a beaten shrug. “He didn’t sit me down and give me a fucking play-by-play.”

“Then let me,” said Connor seriously. If the man was going to accept responsibility for a crime he didn’t commit, he had to understand everything that came with it. "In addition to creating red ice, you are being accused of providing drugs to Dillon Jones, Alexander Jones’ son. He named you. That's why you were picked up.”

“I know that kid,” the man said slowly, frowning at the opposite wall. “From around the neighbourhood. Weird son of a bitch. How did that little fucker get _my_ name? I've barely spoken two words to him…”

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” answered Connor honestly. It was one of many puzzles. “But Dillon has been selling drugs at the nightclub his parents used to run, as well as his old school.”

Frank’s eyes darted to him. “A school?”

_//Frank Miller: Stress levels 68%_

“Yes. Detective Reed and I discovered an addicted child selling herself on the street, during a murder investigation. She is fourteen-years-old. The strain of red ice you are accused of creating is responsible for her addiction. It is being targeted at teens and young adults. We don't yet know the full extent of the damage done.” He stared at the man, hoping that he would understand the severity of this better than Dillon had. “Frank, I highly doubt that you will get a few years for this. Even with good behaviour, you may not see your children again until they are fully grown.”

A quiet choking sound left Frank’s throat. “No. This isn't right.”

_//Frank Miller: Stress levels 77%_

“I hate to say it,” said Connor softly, placing his hand against the plastic wall, “but that’s the truth.”

“I’m a fucking fool,” he rasped, his chest heaving. “I should have known it couldn’t be that easy. Nothing ever is. I changed my life, turned it all around and it doesn’t make a _fucking_ difference, does it? They’ll never see me as anything else…”

“You _did_ turn it around,” said Connor, hitting his hand on the plastic to get the man’s attention. Perhaps his first impression of Frank was negative, and maybe he didn’t see Connor as real or alive, but… none of that was criminal. It certainly wasn’t something he deserved life in prison for. “Keeping guns in your home might warrant some form of punishment, but you haven’t been creating red ice. You haven’t been turning children into addicts. If you stand by your confession, then the guilty person will get away with this and you will go to prison for a long time.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” he growled weakly. “It's done now-"

“Nothing is _done_.” Connor thought through the possibilities. “I’ll contact my captain and explain the situation. That should buy me and Detective Reed time to find the person who is actually responsible. We can’t go back and undo the confession, but it’s time for honesty, Frank. About the drugs and the guns. No more lies.”

Frank gave a sigh of bitter laughter, digging his fingers into the back of his neck. “A fucking human puts me in a cage and an android is trying to get me out of it. What's the world coming to?”

“I won’t lie.” Connor didn’t want to give him false hope. “This could still end in jail time, but if what you’re saying about the guns is true, there is a chance. The next time a detective wants to speak to you, ask for a lawyer. I’ll do what I can out here.”

He turned to leave.

“It’s _Connor_ , right?” Frank said, his voice hoarse. Connor stopped, turning back. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come here, especially after the way I... Thank the fuckin' boytoy too.”

Connor had no idea how to respond to that. He simply nodded and silently headed back to the entrance.

Gavin was leaning against the desk at the reception area, a paper cup in his hand, laughing at something the receptionist said. His head shot up when he saw him. “Looks like that’s us,” he grinned at her. “Thanks for the coffee, Pauline. And the stories. Good luck keeping Simmons in line.”

“Good luck to you too, detective,” she said with a sweet smile, glancing between him and Connor.

Connor tilted his head curiously, but Gavin already had a hand on his back, leading him away.

“So?” he asked immediately. 

“His confession was coerced,” he said quietly, as they headed for the exit. It was almost five and the regular shifts would be starting soon. “Simmons hinted that if he didn’t confess to supplying red ice, he would lose his children because of the guns in his home. If he _did_ confess, he promised a lighter sentence, and that he would have the guns removed.”

“He was that desperate for a fucking win he threatened to take away the guy’s kids?” muttered Gavin in disgust, walking fast to keep up with him. “What did he have to say about the guns?”

They opened the heavy glass doors. The sun was finally beginning to rise in the cloudy sky. He watched Gavin take a deep breath, stretching out his arms and rolling his shoulder.

“An inheritance from his father," Connor continued, moving down the steps. "An avid collector, it seems. Although it will require some investigating to confirm, I didn't detect a lie. He felt that he couldn’t hand them into the station without prejudicing himself because of his previous convictions.”

“Yeah, I’d have had second and third thoughts about that too, if I were him,” agreed Gavin, jumping down the last three steps. “Right, that answers that. Gives us a few more questions though. What now?”

“I’ve saved a transcript of the conversation. I’ll send it to Fowler. I hope it will be enough for a judge to suppress the confession, but Detective Simmons did the initial interrogation. His opinion will carry weight. It will be a lot easier if we can provide them with another suspect.”

“We'll need to find one first.” Gavin rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Cake-baking time?”

Connor chuckled. The man's energy was infectious. “It’s still a bit early to be knocking on doors. We should get you some breakfast. There is probably be a cafe nearby. We can sit down and try to think of a better way in. Unless you can actually bake?”

“Bake? No. But," the detective said, with a smirk, “I might have another way. _You’re_ not gonna like it. Come on, I'll tell you all about it over more coffee.”

He reached out and, with the briefest hesitation, slid his hand into Connor's, lacing their fingers, turning them towards the street.

"Food, Gavin," smiled Connor, his LED brightening as he let himself be pulled wherever Gavin was leading them. He tugged the man back, pressing a kiss into his blushing cheek. "Breakfast normally contains food." 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: Stop judging me.  
> Gizmo: *sighs*  
> Gavin, crying: WHAT DID I JUST SAY?  
> Gizmo: *sleeps*
> 
> Six hours later  
> Connor, still laughing: Social protocols...  
> Gavin, glaring: ...
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and your comments, they make me so happy. I love writing this and I'm glad you enjoy reading it :)
> 
> A few more chapters left but the end is nearing...
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My problem? Isn’t it obvious?” he snapped, waving a hand over Gavin.
> 
> “Oh, very fucking mature," he drawled. "We’re doing it, smartass. End of discussion.”
> 
> Connor's eyes shot to him, his face darkening so much, it sent shivers down his spine. If looks could kill, Gavin would have been a pile of fucking ash by now.
> 
> “We are nowhere near the end of this disc-”
> 
> “Sorry to interrupt,” came a light, amused voice from a few feet away. “I don’t know if you’re about to fight or fuck, but either way, can you do it outside? The regulars will be in soon, and all this sexual tension might give them a heart attack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The guys chill in a cafe and get things kicked off!
> 
> Connor gets mad, Gavin gets schooled, things get soft, so soft, because of course it does, and they enlist help from an unlikely place.

Chapter 26

“No. Absolutely not.” 

The android paced in front of him, shaking his head vehemently.

“Con-”

“Gavin, I told you before, we can't trust them. We are _not_ getting them involved.”

For fuck sake.

He knew this was going to be a hard sell, but it wasn’t like they were swimming in options.

If they had any other way, they'd have thought of it by now.

“Not ‘them’,” he stressed, taking a deep breath. “Just one. We don’t have a fucking choice.”

“There's always a choice, and we'll find one that doesn't involve _Detective Flowers_ -”

“Gross,” muttered Gavin with an involuntary snicker. "Don’t ever call him that.” 

“I don't want to call him at all!” Connor raised his voice in exasperation. “Please tell me you're not serious. We'll think of something else.”

Why was he making this so difficult? “This is the fastest-"

“You can't even _try_ to keep yourself safe, can you?" he exclaimed, suddenly turning to face him, the light on his temple a bright yellow. "He stood by and watched as you were beaten, and you want to ask him for _help_? You're smarter than this. It’s a terrible plan and we're not doing it.”

Gavin gaped.

Was... was _he_ being serious?

“A terrible plan? You can fucking talk!” he growled, striding into his space. “Like your plans have been so great? If it wasn’t for me dragging your mind-scrambled ass out of that house, we’d be sitting in a fucking cell right next to Frank!”

Connor scoffed petulantly, a deep blue blush taking over his cheeks. “At least _my_ plans didn't involve the people you’ve been calling ‘pricks’ since this case began. Every time you meet them, you end up hurt! This. Is. Stupid!”

“No. It. Isn't! And I don't hear you coming up with anything better so what the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem? Isn’t it obvious?” he snapped, waving a hand over Gavin.

“Oh, very fucking mature," he drawled. "We’re doing it, smartass. End of discussion.”

Connor's eyes shot to him, his face darkening so much, it sent shivers down his spine. If looks could kill, Gavin would have been a pile of fucking ash by now. 

“We are nowhere near the end of this disc-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” came a light, amused voice from a few feet away. “I don’t know if you’re about to fight or fuck, but either way, can you do it outside? The regulars will be in soon, and all this sexual tension might give them a heart attack.”

A young man was staring between them, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black apron, leaning behind the counter with a small smirk on his face.

He gave them a wink.

Fucking great. Arguing with an audience.

Rolling his eyes, Gavin knocked his shoulder childishly into Connor as he headed to the counter. “Just give me a fruit, yogurt, granola concoction. And a massive coffee. With _tonnes_ of sugar.” 

He flashed Connor a goading look.

“You’re an idiot,” he stated, turning towards the entrance, muttering furiously. “That's the only explanation. No concept of self-preservation. The fact that you've made it this far through life is simply astounding...”

The bell above the door rang and Gavin watched the android drop into one of the seats at a table outside, folding his arms as it closed behind him.

“Wow,” chuckled the barista, pulling out a large cup and a bowl. “You're in trouble.”

“Nothing unusual about that,” said Gavin, numbly running his fingers through his hair. “He’s usually less of a pain in the ass.”

He'd expected a bit of push-back but not whatever had just happened. He had no idea what the fuck _that_ was.

The guy hummed. “You should listen to him.”

The unsolicited remark brought him right back to the present.

“Excuse me?” Gavin said, staring at the kid in disbelief. “Who the fuck-”

“He cares about you,” he shrugged, pointing a bag of ground coffee at the back of Connor’s head, which was just visible through the large glass window. His faint LED was circling yellow, creeping occasionally into red. “From what I could overhear of your very _loud_ conversation, he’s just looking for reassurance. Maybe try, like, being nicer? Or, as my friend is always telling me, ‘stop being a dick and learn some patience.’ If you took a moment, you'd be able to see that he's just worried. It's kind of obvious.”

Gavin blinked. He would usually bite back at a lecture like that but instead, he found his gaze fixed on the head of brown hair and the spinning light.

_Reassurance..._

Fuck. That actually made sense. Of course Connor was worried. 

He'd watched a vid of him with a gun to his head. He'd seen the aftermath of his meeting with the vice pricks, spending their first day on the case icing his bruises. He was there when Boyd had his hand around his throat while the other two floated around in the background without a fucking word. Yesterday, he had begged him to keep himself safe. He’d made it pretty fucking clear he wanted to protect him.

Why was Gavin's first response always to yell at him for _giving a shit?_

He really was a fucking idiot.

“You’re handing out life advice as well as coffee?” he tutted, looking the young man up and down. “What are you, twelve?”

The barista tilted his head in amusement. “Like I’ve never heard that one before. Twenty-five, if you’re curious, and it's Cedric, if you’re going to insult me. My beautiful, baby face doesn’t change the facts.” He finished up, placing the fruit and coffee on the counter. “Here you go, sir.”

“Pfft... _sir_ ,” he mumbled, throwing his money down and picking up his order. “Enjoy your shitty tip, _Cedric_.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I only gave you one sugar,” Cedric grinned, leaning his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm. “Apologise to your boyfriend!”

“Not my boyfriend, kid!” he called back. If his hands weren't so full, he'd be using _both_ to flip the busybody off.

He hauled the door open with his little finger and caught Connor's eye. The android immediately huffed, looking away. 

He held back the burst of laughter that threatened to escape his throat.

Because the most expensive android ever created, top negotiator, arguably the most terrifying person Gavin had ever met, had reduced himself to a stroppy teenager. It was so _him_. If he still had doubts about Connor's humanity, they'd have turned to fucking dust just watching this display.

Did Anderson ever get this treatment? There were so many questions he wanted to ask that man.

And yeah, he probably should apologise to the android.

Stupid fucking kid…

*

_//3...4...5...6..._

“So, um, 'Detective Flowers',” joked Gavin hesitantly, placing his items on the table. “That's different, right?”

There was no point in counting to ten. Maybe it helped humans, but it certainly wasn't helping him.

Connor tightened his arms across his chest, stiffening as the detective took the seat next to him. The urge to throttle him was still too strong. “Why do you have a problem with his name?”

He shrugged, restlessly shuffling his fruit around with his spoon. “I don’t have ‘a problem’ with it but imagine shouting that out in the middle of a chase. Or across a bar.”

“It’s not a common name,” objected Connor, sitting up and leaning on the table’s dusty glass top, “and it stands out. Logically, it’s beneficial.”

Gavin snickered, nudging him with his elbow. “Try telling _him_ that. Even his captain calls him by his first name.”

No. He wasn't ready for contact yet. Connor tugged his chair a few inches away from him, with a puff of air.

It was childish, but he didn't care. He was mad at him and he had no idea how to put his anger into words that wouldn't end in another shouting match.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Gavin scratched the scruff on his jaw. “Whatever. It could be worse. The terms of endearment names are fucking painful. Honey or Darling. Knew a guy called Love, back at the academy. Hart isn’t terrible, I guess.”

The stream of thought pouring from the detective was obviously his attempt to lighten the air between them, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, and as much as he wanted to make that as difficult as possible, Connor's lip twitched when an idea crossed his mind, thinking about their time the day before. 

“What about Baby?” he offered, innocently.

“What? That’s not a fuckin’ surname, dipshi- oh, for fuck sake,” the detective laughed, his cheeks reddening. “I don’t know what you're remembering, but I never fucking said that so just shut up.”

_//Memory Recall: Gavin Reed**_

Perfect.

Anger was one option, but if he wanted to _annoy_ the walking frustration that was the detective (and he definitely did), he couldn't think of a better way. 

He had earned this. 

“ _Connor, baby_ ,” Connor muttered, copying Gavin’s voice perfectly. He looked nonchalantly down the street, tapping his thumb on the table. “ _Please_.”

He let the detective’s low moan escape his throat. 

Gavin's eyes widened in horror, his blush worsening. “You’re fucking evil. And that's a spooky superpower. Cut it out.”

“ _Just like that..._ ” continued Connor with a slow grin, feeling better by the second, speaking quietly as the memory of Gavin’s words flowed from him. He turned back to him, whispering seductively into his ear. “ _That’s so good..._ ”

Gavin kicked him swiftly under the table, taking hold of Connor’s chin and looking under it. “Don't you have an off switch?”

Connor chuckled, shoving the man playfully away. “Okay, fine," he relented, although he fully intended to continue this another time. "But do you really think this is the best course of action? You understand how risky this is, right?”

“ _This_ is risky? Seriously?” started Gavin incredulously, but then he paused. He rubbed a hand down his face, his features softening. “Of all the shit we've done over the last week, asking for a favour is the least risky. That's all this is. A favour. One small, tiny favour, then we'll send him packing.”

Connor bit his lip.

It was a good point, but every wire in his body tightened at the mere thought of asking one of the people who’d stood by and watched as Gavin was brutally beaten for help.

Even the idea of that made his hands turn to fists.

“I don’t like this,” he said honestly, slipping the stone out of his pocket and twirling it through his tense fingers. “I won’t pretend I do.”

“I’m not asking you to like it, but we’re out of options,” said Gavin. “And it's not as if I’m fucking thrilled, but he never touched me. Didn't seem like he ever got off on watching Boyd do it either. I know you’re just… _worried_ about me, for some fucking reason, but don’t be.”

“One of us should be,” he muttered, tossing the pebble high into the air and catching it. “I still feel the need to tell you that _this is fucking stupid_.”

“Hmph. Doesn’t even sound like me,” the detective retorted mockingly, scooping the last of the fruit and yogurt into his mouth and pushing the bowl away. He swallowed it down with a large gulp of coffee. “You know the little dweeb inside gave me a telling off? Told me I should apologise to you. If only he knew how much of a brat you are.”

“You bring it out of me." He shook his head tiredly. "And you haven't _actually_ apologised."

Not that he needed to. Connor just hadn't expected to be faced with the idea of meeting one of the vice detectives again so soon. That wasn't Gavin's fault. 

He took a deep breath, cooling his troubled systems.

If they _were_ going to do this, they were in the perfect place. The café they’d found was small, privately-owned, and it wasn’t too far from the 9th precinct. The early morning traffic was quiet and the few commuters out and about were moving hurriedly by. (It also ‘smelled perfect', which Connor took to mean that Gavin found the strong aroma more pleasing than the other coffee shops they had passed.)

He glanced at the man.

He was staring out over the street, not paying attention to anyone in particular. Then he subtly shifted his chair closer to him, leaning back in it, rubbing the scar on his nose.

His uneasiness was… uncomfortable to watch.

Because as much as Connor hated to admit it, he was right.

They didn't have any other options, and they were running out of time.

Connor gave a heavy sigh, prodding Gavin in the ribs. “I suppose this is better than your ‘baking them a cake’ idea, which no doubt would have ended in a kitchen fire.”

“Yeah, it is,” grinned Gavin victoriously. He dragged his chair the rest of the way with a loud scrape, closing the distance between them and nipping his side. “I knew you'd forgive me, dipshit. You can't fucking resist-”

Placing his hand fully over Gavin's mouth, Connor kindly reminded him, “You still haven't apologised, detective."

“Ugh, fine,” he mumbled, pressing his wet tongue against his palm. Connor pulled it away with a grimace, wiping it on his jeans. “I'm _sorry_. I should have listened to you without losing my shit. Forgive me?”

Strangely, Connor didn't detect any hint of sarcasm. “I forgive you. And I also apologise. I may have overreacted.”

“Um, you ‘may have'?” Gavin raised his eyebrow. "I've punched perps in the face who haven't yelled as much."

“I barely _yelled_." He poked the man's bruised cheek. “It appears my automatic response to you being in the presence of any one of them is negative.” He didn't feel bad about that, not after what he'd witnessed. “Honestly, I don't doubt your abilities. You’re strong and can fight better than most humans I've met. That’s not what's bothering me. He saw you in a weakened state and did nothing to help. He's not a good man.”

“Come on, Con. You don't need to coddle me,” he said quietly. “I'm a big boy. Been getting into scrapes since before I could walk. And just look at all these muscles.” He squeezed his biceps proudly, winking. "Not just for show, you know."

“I'm well aware of what those muscles can do," chuckled Connor, tucking his pebble back into his pocket. "And it's not called coddling, Gavin. It's called _caring_. There's a difference.”

"Huh." Gavin paused, sitting back, his brow furrowed. “Suppose I’m still not used to that.”

Of course he wasn't. He had a feeling it would take a lot longer for Gavin to understand just how deeply he was coming to care for him. “Well, you make it very difficult,” he added, with a sideways glance.

“Ha fucking ha, barbie,” he smirked at the jibe, suddenly taking his hand and holding it close. He kissed his knuckles softly, his humour fading. A curious expression came over him. “I guess you haven't had a lot of people care about you either.”

_//Interfacing**_

Connor watched their hands as his skin slipped away. He supposed the man was right. 

“I know you have Hank," Gavin said slowly. "But when you were born, _activated_ , whatever... when you could have used someone on _your_ fucking side, it sounds like you had no one. Just Amanda and Cyberlife, out for themselves. You ever think that’s why we've...” He shrugged. 

"Started terrorising each other physically instead of just verbally?” he teased, lightly.

“That's one way to put it,” he gave a short laugh, a soft blush starting to burn on his cheeks. “I was going to say 'clicked'. But I mean, we didn't have the best starts in life. People trying to tell us who we were, what to do, which path to follow, like they knew what was best for us better than we did, but we went our own way anyway, because fuck them, right? It might not have made sense to them, but it did to us, and that's what mattered.”

_//Backup audio saved**_

_It made sense to us..._

"Fuck them..." A smile crept onto Connor's face. “It sounds like you're calling us kindred spirits, Gavin."

"Maybe. Whatever, I'm just thinking out loud," he said sheepishly. "And I know you were up for my baking idea so don't give me your shit.” He scooched a little closer, pressing a relaxed kiss against his cheek. Then another. And another.

_//Ga##n-_

He bit back his ever-growing smile, glancing down the street, spotting a few eyes cast in their direction. "People are looking."

"Yeah, well fuck them too. Fuck everyone. They can enjoy the fucking show," grinned Gavin, swooping in to bite his earlobe, dramatically sucking on it, sending sparks through every nerve in Connor's body.

_//Gavin enjoys public displays of affection_

He shouldn't have been surprised. Gavin was brazen and absolutely unapologetic in everything he did, facing the world with idiotic fearlessness and an almost _aggressively_ fierce determination. Why would this be any different? 

One thing that did catch him off-guard, however, wasn't that he had his hands and mouth all over him, out in the open, surrounded by strangers. 

No. It was the fact he was doing this _knowing_ they could see that Connor was an android. Understanding the implications. What they might think. What they would say. 

His LED wasn't covered, as it had been at the club. They weren't technically on the job, as they had been at the Miller's daughters' birthday party.

But there wasn't a sliver of reluctance, or a hint of a second thought.

He didn't seem to care. Not even a little.

Which he was currently making _very_ clear...

Gavin moaned loudly against his neck, deep and wholly exaggerated, sliding an eager hand over his thigh.

"Alright, I think you've made your point. Get off me," chuckled Connor warmly. His thirium pump was spinning so fast, he could actually hear its gentle hum. "If we're going to do this, we should do it now. While it is still early enough to stay somewhat under the radar."

Laughing, Gavin pulled back, his cheeks flushed, pupils dilated. It certainly hadn't _all_ been for show. He stretched out and tapped his LED softly. “You sure about this, barbie? Last chance to say no.”

As if he would actually listen...

"You've managed to convince me," he reluctantly accepted. "Apparently, you're a better negotiator than I gave you credit for."

"It's easy when there's nothing else on the table," he said, a little smugness in his tone. "Let's not threaten to fucking murder this one, okay?" He slid his phone from his pocket and called the number, putting it on loudspeaker and placing it next to his coffee.

Connor rolled his eyes. " _I'll_ decide who I need to threaten..." 

There was a soft click, and the ringing stopped.

“Yes?” said a harassed voice on the other end. 

“Good morning, Detective Flowers,” said Connor, turning his attention to the call.

“Flowers,” Gavin chuckled, pinching his finger. “Weird as fuck...”

"It absolutely isn’t weird," Connor returned just as quietly, flicking him away. "Try to be professional."

“Who is this?”

"This is Connor," he said, frowning curiously as Gavin scooped up his hand again, studying it. "I-I'm with Detective Reed."

“Hey,” said Gavin, lifting their joined hands until their elbows were on the table. He pressed their palms together, the pads of their fingers lightly touching. 

_//Interfacing: Gavin Reed**_

Oh.

“What... what do you want?” the other man asked suspiciously, his deep voice tinny over the loudspeaker.

“A favour." Gavin's response was automatic, completely enthralled by the bare chassis he had seen several times now. His attention flickered back to Connor’s face as he slowly clasped their hands together.

Despite knowing better (and he definitely knew better), Connor lost himself in those stormy grey eyes, just for a moment, his body heating up, his thirium moving a little faster. The myriad of colours were alight in his mind once again, just as they had been when they'd danced together. He swore he could _feel_ him, the pulse of his entire body flowing through their joined hands, a vibrant thrum of energy, filled with so much _life_...

_//Increase conta-STOP*_

Shit.

What were they doing? 

Forcing himself back to reality, he tore his hand away, glowering at the man.

All he got in return was a delirious breath of laughter, and Gavin settled back in his chair, looking at him like it was the first time he'd ever seen him.

_//Increase contact**_

No. They had a job to do. 

They could get distracted later.

“Yes, a favour,” he repeated sternly. He kicked the detective hard under the table, ignoring the pathetic 'fuck!' in response. 

“Why would you want a favour from me?” the man asked, sounding concerned. “And why would I do either of you a favour? This case is over. We're done."

_//Vocal stress levels: 68%_

That was very high, considering they hadn't even told him what the favour was.

There was a strong likelihood this could go wrong.

“We know Frank Miller was coerced into giving his confession,” Connor said carefully, feeling Gavin's eyes still on him.

“He wasn't coerced,” he said, his words slow and considered. “We have evidence-"

Gavin snorted, leaning forward, finally snapping out of his odd hypnosis. “Fuck off. The only evidence you have is a vague description and Dillon Jones’ confession. Who the fuck knows how he got hold of Frank's name.”

“I'm hanging up.”

“We also know about Detective Boyd,” added Connor.

More silence, and Connor thought he really had hung up, until the low voice spoke again. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

_//False_

He knew exactly what they were talking about.

“If that's true, then you must be the shittiest detective on the force,” growled Gavin, shoving his empty bowl further to the edge of the table and pointing angrily at the phone. “That asshole held a gun to my fucking head yesterday. He was out of his mind. You and I both know what's going on. Unless you really expect us to believe you're that fucking stupid?”

Yet even more silence until, suddenly, there was a violent slam of a door. A heavy exhale was barely audible over the phone. “Just... what do you want?”

_//Vocal stress levels: 75%_

“We're at the Double Shot cafe,” Connor said. “Come meet us.”

Gavin made a move to speak, but Connor quickly covered his mouth, shaking his head.

He was too close to being spooked.

In fact, with those stress levels, he should already _be_ spooked. 

“Ten minutes,” the cautious man said finally, and the call ended.

Interesting.

“I can't believe that actually work,” muttered Connor. The detective's instincts were impressive. 

“Never doubt me, barbie,” he smirked proudly. “Simmons is a fucking moron and Boyd is a violent piece of shit, but him? I got nothing.”

“We still need him to say yes,” Connor pointed out. 

“It's a chance,” said Gavin, jumping to his feet. “But that doesn’t matter right now, because it's time for more coffee.”

“Decaf,” he called after him, but the energetic man was already halfway through the door, taking the bowl and cup with him.

Connor smiled affectionately, flexing his hand, still feeling the warmth and pleasant tingling sensation that the detective had left behind. 

*

“I have a question, while we're waiting,” said Gavin, falling back into the metal and plastic seat, a steaming hot coffee in one hand and a glass of some kind of special, chilled thirium in the other. The blue stuff was actually sparkling. “And this for you. A gift from the nosey fucker inside, free of charge, since he _likes_ you so much.”

“You shouldn't be so surprised,” grinned Connor boastfully. “I'm very likeable.”

“Yeah, you are,” he snorted. “Who wouldn’t like the living embodiment of a pain in the ass?”

Connor picked up the drink carefully, twirling the straw and inspecting it with those inquisitive, brown eyes. “Is that your question, detective?”

_Detective..._

The idiot made him weak.

“You wish, dipshit. This one is personal,” he said, looking everywhere except the adoring face. “At least, according to Pauline.”

Connor tilted his head. “The receptionist from the other precinct?”

“We had a pretty good chat while you were in the cells with Frank.” He took a long drink of the decaf coffee. He'd managed to convince the baby-faced barista to put two sugars in this one. “I asked her about something, well, a few things. She said to ask you-”

“Gavin,” interrupted Connor, his lips shimmering with the blue stuff. He took another sip through the straw. “This is amazing!”

Oh, for fuck sake.

“I'll pass your compliments onto Cedric, you little shit.” Gavin swiped the drink from his hand, putting it back on the table. “I’m trying to ask you something.”

The android stared at him, kicking his foot playfully. “Fair enough. I’m listening.”

He tried to reach for the glass again, but before he could, Gavin snatched up his hand. 

“Hey!" Connor glared. “You would shoot me if I took away _your_ coffee.”

“If you like it so much, I’ll buy you three more. You’re fucking worse than me.”

“What do you-”

Gavin adjusted his grip on Connor, pressing their palms flat together, their fingertips touching just like they had before.

That caught the android's attention.

Almost in slow motion, the bright shell underneath revealed itself and there was a soft vibration coming from him that Gavin had never noticed before today. 

But he was noticing everything now. The vibrations, the scent of coffee on the light wind, the darkening clouds threatening rain, the slight wobbliness of the table under their elbows, the feel of Connor’s warm, bare fingers against his. Like the moment was frozen in time.

“This,” was all he could get out. 

So fucking smooth...

“A-are you joking?” Connor gaped, his voice a little too loud and his LED spinning yellow. “Why is your timing so terrible? I mean, I want to talk about this, I do, but we’re just about to meet with-”

“Whoa, Con!” Gavin laughed, suddenly realising what he'd thought he meant. “I told you, I’m saving that question. I mean _this_.” 

He laced their fingers together, shaking their joined hands as realisation dawned on him. “Now whose the idiot?” he grinned.

“You mean...” the android exhaled. “My interfacing protocol.”

The embarrassed, blue blush that took over his cheeks was nothing short of fucking adorable.

“Not my fault you wasted your question,” Gavin teased in a low voice, giving his gleaming hand a tight squeeze. “Pauline said that, before deviancy, it was a way for androids to exchange information with each other, but she wouldn't explain any more than that. She said to ask you, so...”

In fact, he had watched Pauline ‘interface' with her terminal and, hyped up on caffeine and desperately needing to distract himself, he’d chanced his luck, blurting out invasive question after invasive question, specifically about androids. Thankfully, she'd found the situation amusing, but had still only given him the most basic information, pointing him in Connor's direction for the rest.

She _had_ offered up some amazingly funny stories about Simmons to make up for her silence, so he saw it as a fucking win either way.

“Fine. But I don't know if I can explain it properly.” Connor chewed his lip, his eyebrows twitching, deep in thought. “I suppose it was easy to control the flow of information when I was bound by code. Free from that code, I have far less control over what passes through. That and... I have more to hide. My emotions, wants and desires. Opening a connection, sharing myself, it’s personal. Intimate.”

“Intimate,” repeated Gavin, staring at his tanned flesh and Connor's pale shell tightly holding onto each other.

That explained why Pauline was reluctant to divulge.

“I’ve never been in a situation where interfacing has activated involuntarily,” he said quietly. “Not until we were on the couch with Sam. The need to protect him, combined with my strong emotions towards you, it...” He frowned in frustration, his LED dancing between yellow and red. “It...”

“Hey, it's okay,” said Gavin. “These strong emotions... Tina reminded me it's only been five days-"

Connor shook his head, but relaxed a little.

“I've seen this happen in other androids, when they want to share themselves with someone they care about,” he said, his hold on Gavin's hand gentle but firm. “Being near you, even if it has only been five days, it makes me feel... so much. I... I wish I could explain it better than this.”

“Your interfacing protocol is linked to your emotions and you have trouble controlling them?” Gavin asked carefully. 

That was something he could understand. He didn't have much control over his own emotions at the best of time, and he'd been dealing with them for decades longer than Connor had.

“Around you.” Connor gave him a soft, hesitant smile. “Like I said, it's never happened to me before. You're the first. I seem to have trouble controlling my emotions _around you_.” 

That... he wasn't expecting that.

Gavin swallowed, feeling the stupid butterflies in his stomach, chest, all over his fucking body. “If I was an android, or if I could do the hand thing too,” he started, feeling his heart beating against his ribs, “what information would you be passing me?”

“I wouldn’t be passing you information," Connor said simply, shifting their hands, pressing their palms together again. “These feelings I can't find the words for, that I don't know how to outwardly express. If I could _show_ you...”

The air between them changed, and Gavin felt everything around them fade away.

“If you could show me...?” he pushed gently, being slowly drawn in, feeling a heady rush of emotion.

“You would know." His eyes flickered down to Gavin's lips, LED burning blue.

“Know?” They were so close, he caught Connor's sweet scent, hear the faint whir of his body...

“You would know how much I... how much...” 

When their lips finally touched, the feeling in his chest burst. He forgot where he was, almost forgot what they were fucking doing, but Connor's tongue pressed against him and it all came flooding back.

Intimate. 

Strong emotions.

_If I could show you..._

This wasn't fucking social protocols. This wasn't to make things easier.

Whatever Gavin was feeling, Connor was right there with him.

Gavin clasped their hands together, the soft kiss growing deeper, Connor’s free hand coming up to cradle his face with a quiet moan and-

“Ahem,” someone near them cleared their throat, and Gavin immediately raised a middle finger in the direction of the noise. “Charming. So, did you bring me here for the show or...?” 

Son of a bitch. If only he'd been holding his gun...

Unwillingly, they broke apart, but Connor's attention never left him. 

He needed to speak, but his heart was in his throat. _One_ of them needed to speak or he was going to lose his mind-

“I told you calling him was a bad plan,” Connor scolded lightly, sliding his fingers over Gavin's jaw, tracing his bottom lip with a smile.

Thank fuck.

Gavin brought his middle finger back and nipped his chin cheekily. “I didn't know he was going to ruin the fucking moment," he said, with a shaky breath. "Pause the game?”

“Looks like we have to,” said Connor, placing another kiss against his lips, short and chaste, but it affected Gavin just as much as the first.

“Strange game,” the man above them snorted uncomfortably. “It's like you didn't expect me. Not even sure why I'm here.”

Back to reality.

“Fuck off, Caleb,” sighed Gavin irritably. “You know exactly why you’re here.”

“His stress levels are very high,” said Connor, casting his eyes over the man.

That definitely checked out.

His dark skin was shining with a thin layer of sweat. Sure, it was hot, but his arms were also folded and he was refusing eye contact. He was nervous, on edge. Gavin hadn't noticed before but it looked like he hadn't slept in fucking _days_. 

Hooking his foot around a chair from the opposite table, he tugged it over with a loud scrape, metal against concrete, noticing the man flinch at the noise. He gestured to it. “Sit.”

“Out here? No way,” said Caleb, glancing shiftily down the street. “Inside. And away from the window. Don't need anybody seeing me talking friendly with you two.”

"Okay." Gavin caught Connor's eye. “Let's see if Cedric has a table in the back. Can't fucking wait for this."

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin, snickering: Flowers...  
> Connor: He's right there...  
> Caleb, glaring: ...
> 
>  
> 
> Pauline: ...  
> Gavin: ...  
> Pauline: ...  
> Gavin: ... just tell me-  
> Pauline: Ask your boyfriend.  
>  
> 
> Cedric, watching them argue back and forth, grinning: I love my job.
> 
>    
> Caleb's surname was stolen from someone I met months ago. They hated it, I loved it. Been waiting for the right moment to use it!
> 
> I also loved writing this and I'm just... looking forward to all the next bits!! 
> 
> I'm so happy you're still here with me 26 chapters in. As always, much love to you all.
> 
>  
> 
> ❤ j.


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